Cross Blades
by WarlordFil
Summary: When Sangheili warriors Usze 'Taham and N'tho 'Sraom meet, it's a case of hate at first sight! Things get more complicated when they are stuck fighting together, and there's no greater enemy than their own pasts... Usze x N'tho pairing.
1. Chapter 1: Ascetic's Code

**Author's Note: **This is a _tamed down_ version of the original story, which is available at a certain adult fan fiction net in its unaltered form. For those of you who are not of legal age to view such content, or who have aesthetic or moral objections to viewing such content, the story here should be complete enough to follow the plotline.

The story still contains the following:

A homosexual relationship

Depictions of sexual harrassment

_Mention_ of rape (not actually depicted, and not described as acceptable/excusable)

_Mention_ of sexual behaviour in groups (not actually depicted)

Depictions of sexuality that parallel the degree found in a Silhouette Nocturne romance novel. Since Nocturnes are sold on the public shelves in Wal Mart (not in "adults-only" venues), I believe that the level of sexuality depicted in them is acceptable for a "M" rating.

If you find any of the above upsetting, distasteful, or just not your style, please do not read this story—you will not enjoy it.

That being said, this story focuses on plot driven by character development, so if you are seeking a smut and violence fest, you will probably not enjoy this story either.

Everyone else, happy reading.

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the First: Ascetic's Code**

Time Setting: midway through Halo 2

The code of the Ascetics was grueling, even for Sangheili. An Ascetic was called upon to be no less than a physical embodiment of the Sangheili ideal—an avatar for the Perfect Warrior, an archetype made flesh. Every word, every deed, every waking choice had to be made as though the eyes of all Sanghelios were upon you, looking up to you for guidance, trusting to you to set an example, preparing to follow in your footsteps.

It was easiest when your thoughts were wholly within the Path, for words and deeds flowed from thoughts. When thoughts were pure, the rest would follow.

Usze 'Tahamee bowed his head and recited the ancient creed.

_I surrender my self to the Perfect Warrior._

_As I have learned, so shall I do._

_As I do, so shall others learn from me._

_I speak the wisdom of my ancestors;_

_I enact the deeds of my heirs._

_I take responsibility for my people._

_I am Sanghelios made flesh—_

_Let the battle be joined._

The Ascetic Order was an old society, rumoured to be the pillar of Sangheili culture in the long-lost pre-Covenant days. With the arrival of the Covenant, and the ascension of the Prophets to the head of Sangheili politics and religion, the Ascetic Order went underground. The Order justified secrecy as a weapon, for even Prophets were not immune to corruption and impurity—and San 'Shyuum were not and could never be Sangheili.

But in the current age, the Perfect Warrior was a loyal follower of the Covenant. Usze 'Tahamee was not a heretic, despite the fact that he hid his membership in and loyalty to the Ascetic Order. Just in case his daily devotion might be considered heretical, he added the traditional Vow.

_On the blood of my father,_

_On the blood of my sons,_

_I vow to uphold the Covenant,_

_Even to my dying breath._

Satisfied, Usze 'Tahamee put his helmet over his head, sealed it, and stepped out his stateroom door into the corridors of the Covenant flagship _Seeker of Truth _to commence another day's duties.

*

The official name of Usze 'Tahamee's position was _Blademaster Liason to the Sangheili Fleet of Particular Justice_. As the Fleet's Blademaster, and it was his duty to oversee the Swordsmen of the fleet, to test their skills, advise their instructors, ensure that minimum standards were met, deliver leadership seminars, and supervise supply and repair issues. He was also frequently attached to combat units who needed specialized assistance for missions. It was not a command rank, but it did carry a certain amount of authority; he was one of the most highly skilled Swordsmen in the Fleet, perhaps the highest since SpecOps Subcommander Kuvosai's untimely death on the _Infinite Succor _mission. As an Ascetic, 'Tahamee did not value the chance for a promotion to Shipmaster as much as he valued the opportunity to work with the soldiers, setting an example, inspiring them and teaching them. And as a warrior, his rank did not prevent him from seeing active battle on a regular basis.

For the past two years, 'Tahamee had been travelling from ship to ship on the fleet, inspecting the warriors, testing the officers, and observing the weapons maintenance staff. He also led or assisted on combat missions. The position was only partly administrative; the other half of the role involved setting an example for the other Sangheili, both in battle and in shipboard life.

One of the most important parts of setting an example was looking good. There were some officers in the Fleet who were all polish, no performance; 'Tahamee was not one of those. His concern was that, unless you were on a battlefield, nobody took you seriously if you looked like dirt. _Seeker of Truth_ was not a battlefield, so it behooved him to look his best; otherwise he had no grounds on which to criticize poorly dressed Majors and Minors. As an Ascetic, he had to set an example—particularly since he had been touring the Fleet for months and he hadn't done a proper inspection on _Seeker of Truth _in almost a year. The flagship Elites would be sharp in the presence of their new Supreme Commander. 'Tahamee would have to be sharper to catch them napping.

But first, he needed a new helmet. He always kept backups of his entire set of armour, and his spare helmet had been misdirected by some stupid Unggoy on the last ship he'd inspected, _Scourge of Evil_. In two days they still could not trace where it had gone. Fools. _Scourge_'s commander was not happy with his Unggoy, not at all.

Usze 'Tahamee knocked on the door of the Quartermaster's storeroom.

There was a sign on the door reading:

FIL STORAMEE (crossed out)

AJ 'QOROPEE (crossed out)

FIL STORAMEE

Usze frowned.

"C'mon in!" a loud, rough voice bellowed.

Usze opened the door and his mandibles all hung open.

A raucous game was in progress inside. The players appeared to be a pair of Grunts, a Jackal, a blue-armoured Sangheili warrior, a white-robed Sangheili nurse, a third Elite in pilot's rig, and a fourth Sangheili soldier in a mishmash of different armour types, all coloured an outrageous pale lavender. They were clustered around a large table. A black ball was ricocheting wildly around the surface of the table. The pilot, standing at the far end of the table and holding a white ball, threw it at the black ball and missed.

"Condemnation!" the pilot yelled. He scrambled around the table, almost plowing through the blue warrior, trying to catch the ball. He succeeded, ran back to the end, threw at the black ball and hit it.

The two Grunts really were a pair. One stood on the shoulders of the other to grab the white ball and hit the black ball.

The nurse was up next, but despite her best efforts, she missed the black ball repeatedly. Cheers and jeers rose up as the white ball rolled to a stop.

"Kya Pomoraa has a strike!" the Jackal crowed.

The lavendar Sangheili, sitting on a ratty chair held together by rope and tape, chewing on some kind of sausage, put a mark on a whiteboard containing a list of names in one column and a series of hash marks in the other. "Three strikes, you're out. N'tho, your turn to serve." He turned his attention back to a book in his lap.

The blue-armoured warrior placed the black ball on a line on the table, went to the far end, and threw the white ball. He struck the black ball and the game resumed with the Jackal scrambling to catch the white ball.

"Beebee, how's Shipment 419?" the lavender Elite asked.

"Coming in tomorrow," one of the Grunts replied.

"Mibmab, running toilet in the third deck front head?"

"Parts delivered at lunchtime!" the other Grunt answered.

The nurse was sitting on a pile of blankets, chewing on a hunk of dried meat.

Nobody was paying the slightest attention to 'Tahamee.

Usze felt the insanity of the scene building up in his head until he finally bellowed, "STOP!"

Everybody turned as one.

'Tahamee began to second-guess himself. Perfect Warriors did not lose their composure and yell. But Perfect Warriors should not be exposed to such rampant idiocy in their presence, either.

"Where's Chief Quartermaster Fil 'Storamee?" Usze asked, putting the customary glottal stop before the name. "If he knew what you idiots were doing, he would…"

"She," the blue warrior said.

"Excuse me?" Usze said frostily, not happy to be corrected by a Minor. And then the word sunk in. "Excuse me?" he repeated, with confusion this time.

The purple Elite put down its book and approached, flicking him a salute. "Fil Storamee at your service." Its voice was rough but quite possibly feminine. It looked him up and down. "Sir," it added.

"You're Fil. And you're a female. And it's Storamee, not 'Storamee."

"Yes, yes and yes. Sir."

The situation just kept getting odder. He'd never encountered anything like it; the Ascetics had no training, no advice, to help him deal with something so bizarre. "What is…all that?" he asked, gesturing at the table.

"Crud game," Storamee said simply.

"And why are you playing…crud…instead of working?"

"I _am_ working. So's my Unggoy and the Kig-Yar—they give me updates in between turns. The Sangheili are all on breaks—it's dinnertime for the nurse, day off for the SpecOps guy, and I dunno about the pilot, I guess you can have him if you want him."

"I don't want a pilot," 'Tahamee protested weakly. "I want…I require an assault helmet."

She squinted at him. "Looks like you got a pretty good assault helmet on." That pause again. "Sir."

"I require a second."

"Okay." She picked up the book, flipped a few pages forward and made a notation. "I'll get on that."

"And it has to be in this same colour scheme."

She frowned. "How'd you get claret armour? That's a special order."

"Privilege of my office."

"Great." From her voice she clearly thought it was anything but. Her sarcastic tone did not change as she added, "Getting right on that, yessir."

'Tahamee leaned forward. She'd inserted a long order code plus the notation "claret assault helmet" on a page in between "new sign for my storeroom" and "100,000 pair Unggoy slippers." The date at the top of the page was two weeks away.

"Storamee," 'Tahamee said sternly, "that date is not acceptable."

The lavender-armoured Quartermaster turned back to him. "Sir…I just got this stockroom back after a....an unplanned vacation when the new Supreme Commander questioned the ability of a female to do this job. As you can see, I am back, my storeroom is a mess, and I am attempting to eat my dinner, get updates from my staff, organize my orders book, and get my daily half hour of relaxation in all at the same time. If you want your helmet sooner, sir, you're going to have to tell me which of my other jobs I should bump in its favour, so when the Supreme Commander wants to know why his ship's not fighting fit, I'll know who he should blame." She handed him the book.

It was huge, heavy, filled with cryptic notations he didn't even begin to understand, and written in lavender ink.

"I don't care," 'Tahamee retorted, now sounding impatient. "Do all of it. Now."

"And I'm telling you I can't do all of it. Sir. So either you can wait for your fancy hat, or we're going to have a fight. What'll it be?"

It sounded foolish when she put it like that, but Usze wasn't going to back down to a…a female. He nodded.

"Go talk to the Shipmaster. He'll give you a time and venue." With that, she reclaimed her book.

Usze blinked, realizing that the crud game had suddenly gone silent. "Are you suggesting that we will be having a formal duel?"

The blue armoured Sangheili reached out a hand, as if to place it on 'Tahamee's arm, then thought better of it and let his hand drop. "That's what the lady's saying."

Fil was outright ignoring him now, so Usze turned his attention to the warrior. "And the Shipmaster allows this?"

He fidgeted. "I'm relatively new on this ship, sir, but the way I hear it, the Arbiter himself told her to settle things this way." He beckoned for Usze to follow him, and though the aristocrat didn't like the idea of following a Minor around, he was now curious enough to want to know what the warrior was talking about.

The other Sangheili stopped suddenly and pointed upwards. Usze followed his gaze to a hand-lettered sign hanging above the door that let out of Stores and back into the hallway.

We Fight Duels

Duels Have Rules

Usze blinked. "What is that intended to imply?"

The warrior shot him a strange look that might have been concern, worry, or bewilderment. "A formal duel has laws and fouls, a presiding referee, and is designed to settle questions of supremacy with minimal loss of life and limb. Fight to first blood only. Compare to pirate brawl, objective: fuck up the other guy by any means possible, no holds barred."

That's when Usze began to get a sinking feeling. "You are saying that Fil Storamee…"

"Fights so damn dirty that they make her use formal duel structure, for the benefit of her opponents." He shrugged. "Look on the bright side. You're not only more likely to survive, you've probably got a chance at winning."

Usze was glad the helmet hid his expression from the warrior. "She is a female. How good can she be?"

The warrior gave him a look. "Let's put it this way, sir. I'd accept a forfeit victory if one was offered instead of insisting on beating her blade-to-blade."

By the Rings, he had to assert his authority and quickly too, or he'd end up a laughingstock on this ship. "I see. And who might you be?"

"N'tho 'Sraomee, Special Operations, Minor Domo, at your service, sir."

Usze folded his arms. "How long have you been in SpecOps?"

N'tho's eyes finally began to show that he was getting an inkling that he might be in trouble. "Uh, almost a month, sir."

"I see. So, one month into your tour of duty and you're loafing around this crud game?" Yes, the easiest way to get his authority back was cutting this big mouthed rookie down to size.

"Sir, it's my day off."

"Then let me suggest, 'Sraomee, that you put your day off to more productive use—say, practicing your sword forms, or polishing your armour, or reviewing current intel on the Humans. Not hanging around the _dubious _company of the, ah, Chief Quartermaster and her lackeys." He let his gaze fall on the hilt at 'Sraomee's hip. "Unless you aren't interested in keeping that blade of yours."

'Sraomee's eyes showed real fear. Excellent.

"I am the Blademaster on this vessel, and it will be my decision as to whether or not you are skilled enough to keep that weapon. While you're rethinking your decision to be here, instead of practicing your blade skills, you may also want to rethink who you'd like to bet on in that fight."

'Tahamee turned on his heel and walked out, hoping he looked haughty and imposing from the rear, praying that Fil Storamee was all talk.

Being Blademaster on this flagship wasn't going to be an easy job at all.

The next day, on the Delta Halo, N'tho 'Sraomee crouched behind a tree as plasma sizzled past the end of his snout, wondering how much worse his bad month could possibly get.

As the newest recruit to the Fleet of Particular Justice's SpecOps unit, 'Sraomee had hoped that he'd been on the verge of making a new life for himself. He'd served his first two tours of duty in a different fleet, and then just a few months into his third tour, he'd received notification that he'd been transferred to SpecOps. 'Sraomee considered the transfer to be not one blessing but two: first, he had a chance to start over—a chance he desperately needed—and secondly, it was in a position guaranteed to restore the honour of his family name, if only he didn't screw it up.

So what did he do when he arrived aboard the Sangheili flagship _Seeker of Truth_?

Promptly start screwing it up.

Upon his arrival, most of the officers were so busy with the assault on Reach that instead of even meeting all his commanders, 'Sraomee had spent the day following a fellow SpecOps soldier, Pti 'Firogee, around the ship. While spending the afternoon at Fil Storamee's crud game was a lot of fun, N'tho felt useless, as though he was simply burdening his new team.

That night, 'Firogee and 'Sraomee had gone to the Sangheili mess hall. After hours, the place turned into a bar and mating meat market for Sangheili troops; 'Firogee had gone off with some female from the kitchens and left 'Sraomee on his own. An older Sangheili had sat down beside him and bought him a drink pouch, then a few more, and the next thing 'Sraomee knew, he was waking up in someone else's quarters.

Which wasn't the first time he'd ever done that, but dammit, he wanted to be famous for his fighting skills, not for being the SpecOps slut. 'Sraomee had tactfully excused himself, returned to his own quarters, showered, armoured up, and reported in to duty...

...only to find that his companion of the night before was the SpecOps Subcommander, Rycl 'Otsedee, who had not only a wife back on Sanghelios but was also currently involved with _Seeker of Truth_'s former executive officer, Epse 'Gamulee…

...and 'Otsedee was now his boss.

'Sraomee guessed that 'Otsedee's indiscretion probably was due to battle strain and too many drinks, but that didn't matter. What mattered was what it would do to 'Sraomee if that word got out. 'Gamulee was not known for being an even-tempered individual…

N'tho would be stewing on that thought right now, except that things had kept right on going downhill.

Reach. The Demon got away. Halo. SpecOps had been assigned to guard the fleet, rather than pursue the Demon—well, looking back, N'tho was glad not to have been on the Halo when it blew, but at the time, he'd been pretty pissed off at being left out a second time.

Then, the SpecOps "A" Squad had gone to investigate an attack on the supply ship _Infinite Succor_. The theory had been that Humans were attacking the fleet's supply lines. Instead, "A" Squad had found the Flood, and while the Parasite's attempt to expand its reach had been halted, the cost had been enormous. Of all of "A" Squad, only the SpecOps Commander, Rtas 'Vadumee, made it back alive.

With "A" Squad dead, "B" Squad became the senior SpecOps team. It would take time for a whole platoon of SpecOps candidates to be chosen and delivered, and in the meantime, "B" Squad had to do the work of two squads. 'Sraomee had pulled double shifts all across the fleet for days, all the while mourning the loss of battle brothers he'd barely gotten the chance to know.

Then the Supreme Commander became the Arbiter, and Epse 'Gamulee became Shipmaster of _Seeker of Truth _as various Sangheili were promoted to fill vacancies. N'tho had spent his spare time hiding in his barracks for fear of attracting the attention of either 'Otsedee or 'Gamulee.

When N'tho finally summoned the courage to return to Fil's crud game to relax…well…pissing off that stuck-up Blademaster 'Tahamee had just been icing on his shit cake. N'tho was sure 'Tahamee was just looking for any excuse to deem him unqualified and strip him of his Swordsman status.

What else could go wrong?

Then rumour came down that the Great Journey was beginning, here, now, and SpecOps was detailed to provide security for the Sangheili Councillors when they descended to the surface of the Halo to watch the consecration of the Sacred Icon which the Arbiter and Tartarus had retrieved. SpecOps' job was to ensure that the Humans and their hated Demon did not interrupt the ceremony.

Or so they had been told.

Instead, the Brutes had arrived in force and, without warning, commenced a slaughter of the assembled Sangheili. N'tho counted himself lucky that he had been outside in a stand of trees taking a pee when the Brutes had opened fire. He might almost have considered himself fortunate—except that if he were truly fortunate, he'd be nowhere near the Brutes right now.

The sound of gunfire and Brute-shot grenades had caused N'tho to hurriedly finish his business, draw his plasma rifle and return to the Forerunner structure, only to find Brutes tearing into Elites. He stood there for a moment, confused, unsure what to do.

Then one of the surviving Councilors, energy sword in hand, had called for a Sangheili withdrawl. N'tho's training took over and he covered the retreat, driving the Brutes back with a rain of plasma fire while the other Sangheili fled the structure and took cover in the surrounding forest.

That was when the truth had finally sunk in.

The Brutes were killing his people.

The Prophets had betrayed them.

The Councilors had let it happen.

Now N'tho was sprinting through the woods, dodging enemy fire, trying to stay close to the Councilor with the ornate headdress. Brute Shot grenades were raining down around them, causing the Elites to dodge left and right, while branches raked their faces and rocks tumbled under their feet. N'tho felt a moment of panic when he lost sight of the Councilor and then could not find him again; at least the grenades had stopped.

But if the grenades had stopped…

'Sraomee must have seen a flicker of movement, because his body reacted before he had a chance to think. He realized _first _that he had instinctively thrown himself to the ground and _second _that plasma fire was raking over his head. There was a Brute behind the rock ahead of him.

N'tho fired back, but the Brute had good cover. 'Sraomee rolled to his left, putting a tree between himself and the Brute.

Then he noticed another shape a few feet ahead of him. Someone else was pinned down in a gully, exposed, with no good cover anywhere nearby. Once the Brute bothered to aim instead of just blasting away madly, the other Elite was going to get a plasma bolt right in the head. N'tho watched as the other Sangheili rolled anyway, trying to spoil the Brute's aim, and found himself lying right next to the limp corpse of the Councilor.

They couldn't afford to lose any more Sangheili.

N'tho dropped to a crouch, pulling out a plasma grenade, and hurled it with all his might. It soared through the air like a miniature comet and affixed itself to the back of the Brute's helmet. The other Sangheili threw his arms up to shield his head just as the grenade exploded; N'tho did the same.

The Brute, in its dying fury, had blasted at N'tho with its rifle in the instant before the explosion. Klaxons went off in 'Sraomee's ear bud as his shields drained; then the grenade exploded. Shrapnel peppered N'tho's shields until they failed completely. He felt a blow like a slap across his face.

Then it was over. He was still standing. His right eye was blurry, but he was still standing.

A figure in a claret-purple assault harness was climbing to his feet before him—the Sangheili he'd rescued. Even with one good eye, he could recognize the other Elite.

"Blademaster 'Tahamee!"

Every time he thought he'd hit rock bottom…the floor fell out from under him.

"They killed the Councillors, and didn't get you?" Usze asked, his tone dry.

N'tho was not going to tell the aristocrat that pissing saved his life. Instead he did his best to be gracious. "I had to show up in time to save your ass."

'Tahamee stuck his snout up into the air. "It is what any Sangheili worthy of the name would have done."

_Yeah, yeah. Just say I'm nothing special. Don't feel you have to be nice about it._

But N'tho kept his bitter thoughts to himself. "Do you know what's going on?"

Usze folded his arms in a gesture that suggested a grim expression under that helmet. "The Brutes boarded _Seeker of Truth_ and tried to kill all the Elites aboard. We could not hold the vessel. I took a Banshee and came here, hoping to warn the Councilors, but..." Was that a sigh escaping his helmet? "I was already too late."

"Somebody's gotta know the situation," N'tho insisted. "Where's Commander 'Vadumee?"

"You're the one in SpecOps." Now Usze sounded amused.

N'tho realized suddenly that all this time he'd been ignoring his radio. It was abuzz with chatter as Sangheili attempted to regroup, locate one another and seek a surviving commander.

And then a voice came over the comm, "This is Zealot Aj 'Qoropee reporting that the Arbiter is alive, I repeat, the Arbiter is alive and present on Delta Halo. All surviving Sangheili personnel, report to this rally point..." Coordinates were given, and then the message repeated.

N'tho and Usze looked at one another, then bounded away through the forest, side-by-side, heading for the rally point.


	2. Chapter 2: Rookie's Gambit

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Second: Rookie's Gambit**

Time Setting: The end levels of Halo 2 to the first level of Halo 3. The end of the story is parallel to Twin Blades: Comrades (Chapter the Sixth).

Usze 'Tahamee paced nervously. It was quiet right now, and the quiet was upsetting him. He was grateful for the helmet which hid his expression from the rookie.

'Tahamee and 'Sraomee were positioned outside the building into which Tartarus had taken the human Commander, Miranda Keyes. Even now, noises of a battle between Tartarus and his Brutes, and the Arbiter, his Elites and the allied Humans echoed out from within.

Usze felt that he should be in that building as well. A Perfect Warrior would be in the midst of combat against Tartarus, not wasting his sword skills guarding the door.

But a Perfect Warrior did not talk back to his Arbiter. There was no way he could get into that building now without disobeying the Arbiter's direct order. He and 'Sraomee were supposed to stay out here and prevent Tartarus from getting any reinforcements.

And they had done that. A pile of dead Brutes on either side of the doorway attested to the fact that they weren't just standing out here polishing their armour.

Usze snuck a glance at 'Sraomee. The rookie was checking the Brutes' bodies, helping himself to grenades and ammunition. He also looked up regularly, scanning and smelling for trouble, rather than becoming completely absorbed with his looting.

Usze wondered if he hadn't perhaps been too judgmental towards N'tho. The rookie could fight, and had just saved his life with a grenade. In fact, it had been a long time since Usze had seen a young warrior with that much raw talent. His prior suspicion that N'tho must be the son of a Councilor or some such had faded; N'tho clearly won his way into SpecOps based on ability, not family connections.

'Sraomee, 'Sraom…why did 'Tahamee recognize that name? A familiarity hovered on the verge of recollection, but would not come clear.

Talent, of course, was not enough; Usze's lifetime of formal sword training had taught him how to evaluate another's fighting skills, and N'tho had work to do. He sometimes used his natural gifts—speed, dexterity, cunning—to compensate for errors caused by impatience, sloppy form, or stumbles. Compensation, however, was not an ideal; the errors would not have been made in the first place by a more disciplined fighter.

If Usze could teach N'tho even some of his sword forms—well, the rookie would be a force to be reckoned with then.

Then there was movement within the doorway. 'Tahamee tensed. If it was Tartarus or the Brutes, things would bode poorly for the Arbiter, not to mention the rest of the universe, and it would be up to 'Tahamee in the absence of any higher-ranking Elite to do something about it.

But it was the Arbiter, accompanied by two Humans.

'Tahamee pointed his sword at the nearest Human, a dark-skinned male. On the other side of the Arbiter, 'Sraomee was doing the same to a brown-haired female.

"Can you tell your buddies to put their weapons down?" the male Human said.

"Sheath your blades," the Arbiter ordered, and the two other Elites obeyed. "We are allied with the Humans now."

"You are kidding me," 'Sraomee said. Usze would never have voiced his dismay aloud, but he was thinking the exact same thing.

The Arbiter glared at N'tho. "The Brutes have tried to kill us. The Prophets ordered them to do it. We have no powerful allies within the Covenant any longer. The Unggoy are panicking; the Kig-Yar and Yanme'e are following the Jiralhanae. For now, the Hunters are with us, but they are confused, and who can fathom the thoughts of Hunters?" His gaze shifted to Usze's, as though he had read the Blademaster's mind. "Our best chance is to form an alliance with the Humans. I've placed Commander 'Vadumee in charge of the Covenant military while I go to Earth with Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson to finish forging our new alliance." The Arbiter tilted his head. "I could use an honour guard."

Usze got a bad taste in his mouth. He'd turned down repeated offers to join the Prophets' Honour Guard before, because he didn't want to end up standing uselessly in a ceremonial position. He belonged on a battlefield. But it sounded as though being the Arbiter's honour guard might be a risky proposition indeed. "As long as I will actually see combat, my Arbiter, it would be an honour to accept."

The Arbiter smirked. "I think, 'Tahamee, that you will see all the combat you care to witness." He nodded to the Humans. "Very well. These two shall accompany me."

Sergeant Johnson peered at the two Sangheili. "These two? Okay. We've got a drop ship coming down to pick us all up."

Two? 'Tahamee shot a glance at 'Sraomee. The rookie SpecOps warrior was standing there, dumbfounded, mandibles churning—but at least he'd managed a proper salute.

Usze felt a churning wave of anger and frustration. He had the skills to earn a place on the Arbiter's honour guard. 'Sraomee was just getting the position because he was in the right place at the right time. N'tho did not deserve it.

But it was not Usze's place to voice that concern. A Perfect Warrior did not whine, and a Perfect Warrior did not call the Arbiter's judgment into question, particularly not in front of Humans. Doubtlessly the Arbiter had thought that the other Sangheili he had with him—including a Councillor, a Zealot and a former Honour Guard—had more vital jobs elsewhere.

Usze tried to be charitable. N'tho 'Sraomee had needed to win his place on the SpecOps team, and he was a Swordsman. And he had saved Usze's life. If he couldn't handle the position he'd just earned, the Arbiter would surely replace him.

But 'Tahamee could not drive away his feeling of trepidation. He was about to go to an alien planet, where he could only guess at what a Perfect Warrior might do in his interactions with the bizarre creatures called Humans. He was going with the Arbiter, who was probably the leader of their entire species now, and his only support in his duties was a SpecOps rookie.

Usze 'Tahamee was in for the challenge of his life.

N'tho 'Sraomee sat in the mess of the Human spaceship, looking around and sniffing in complete fascination.

The Arbiter was off with Commander Keyes, probably on the bridge, talking to Earth about the new alliance between Sangheili and Humans, or else trying to contact surviving Sangheili ships to warn them about the Prophet's betrayal and the Brutes' purge. N'tho wished he could help, but no one would take the word of a Minor Domo in such a critical matter. So instead, he'd taken it upon himself to look after Sangheili/Human relations on this very ship.

Some of the Marines were regarding the three Sangheili with clear hostility. N'tho steered clear of these to sit on the other side of the passenger bay, near other Humans who appeared more curious than anything.

"Wish we knew what we were up against now," one of the Marines was saying.

"Jiralhanae," N'tho replied with a growl.

"What?" The Humans stared at him.

"Brutes," N'tho clarified. "Jiralhanae is their name for themselves. They've replaced the Sangheili in the Covenant Military."

"What's a Sangheili?" one of the Humans asked warily. A label on its uniform read PEREZ.

"We are," N'tho explained, gesturing to himself. "My people—the ones you call Elites. And you thought we were bad? Wait till you see Brutes up close. They got machines—Choppers—with big blades on the front that can chew right through a Ghost…or one of your, what're they called? Pumas? The ones with four wheels, and the gun on the back?"

"Warthogs," another Human offered. This one had dark skin, short curly hair, and a higher-pitched voice. It also had a different build—the width of its body was at the hips, not the shoulders. This one's uniform said MBEKI.

"Yeah. Fortunately, Brutes are big and mean, but they're also dumb. They put all the armour on the front, and don't leave any for the back, so if you can get 'em from behind, you can put the Chopper out of commission."

Two of the Humans exchanged nods.

"As a matter of fact, that's pretty much Brutes for you. You shoot one enough, they don't retreat—they come chargin' at you, all pissed off. You gotta be ready for that. I mean, the Brute's gonna die, but he'll take you with him unless you're prepared to dodge."

"So we're supposed to believe you're on our side now?" asked a third human. This one had wheat-coloured hair, the same build as Mbeki, and was apparently called CYR.

N'tho shrugged. "Would it help to say having a genocide declared on our people was a really convincing reason to get over our natural distate for your species?"

Cyr regarded him and unfolded its arms. "It might not make me like you…but it does make more sense."

Perez rose out of his seat. "What are we supposed to call you? I know you can read our language…these are our names on our uniforms. What's yours?"

"N'tho 'Sraomee."

"'Sraom," came a voice behind him.

N'tho didn't know how Usze managed to move so silently. It was as though the Swordsman had just materialized behind him. He jumped from the surprise, much to the amusement of the Humans.

"What?" N'tho asked.

"'Sraom. Now that we no longer serve the Covenant, we can no longer take pride in our previous service, and there is no reason for us to keep the –ee suffix to our names. You are N'tho 'Sraom now, as I am Usze 'Taham."

N'tho repeated this for the Humans, who still looked confused.

"Nitro and Uzi," Mbeki said carefully, pointing to each Sangheili in turn. N'tho tried to correct this prononciation, but all the Humans started laughing and repeating the mangled names.

"He's wrong," N'tho protested, "it's N'tho, not Nitro."

"She," Perez replied.

"What?" N'tho said again.

"Mbeki's a girl," Perez explained. "A female."

N'tho stared. "Really?" He looked closely at Mbeki. She didn't seem that different from a male; her scent was almost the same, and so was her skin texture, and her ears. Only the build of the body, those wide hips for carrying eggs, suggested at her gender. By the Rings! Cyr was a female as well!

"Uh, yeah. She's wrong. It's N'tho."

Cyr leaned over to the Minor Domo and said, "This is a joke, and you're going to be stuck with it. "Nitro" is a short form for an explosive substance. "Uzi" is a kind of heavy weapon. Welcome to Earth, Elite—you've got your first nicknames."

*

N'tho was not entirely certain about working with the Master Chief.

It had been nerve-racking enough to realize that he was one of two personal guards to the Arbiter himself. And the other guard was that awful Blademaster 'Taham, who seemed to exist to make his life miserable. If he screwed up and the Arbiter caught him, he was finished—if he screwed up and the Arbiter didn't catch him, 'Taham certainly would. And all that was assuming his screw-up didn't end his life at the hands of a Brute, or worse, a bunch of Grunts.

N'tho slunk through the jungle now, toting a carbine. He wanted to keep a healthy distance between himself and the Demon, whom he did not entirely trust. Even the other Humans found the Master Chief to be somewhat _creepy_, as they put it.

There was just something about guys who never took their helmets off.

Between the Demon and the Blademaster, 'Taham was the lesser of two evils. And then there was the new Arbiter, whom 'Sraom found strangely familiar. Something about that guy had been haunting him ever since Delta Halo.

N'tho moved over towards 'Taham as they jogged along; the Humans' pace was an easy lope for a Sangheili. "Hey. Uzi."

The Blademaster turned his head sharply. He was definitely scowling under that helmet. "Sorry. Usze." N'tho cleared his throat. "Who is that in the Arbiter armour?" N'tho whispered.

"Former Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee." Usze tilted his head. "How can you not know that?"

_Thel_. A sudden memory came flooding back to N'tho. It made his hearts pound, and he staggered. He had been so absorbed with his own problems that he had not been keeping current on news; now he looked like a fool, and 'Taham was still watching him—judging him. N'tho coughed out an answer. "I heard he lost his position as Supreme Commander, but I didn't know they'd made him Arbiter."

Usze nodded. "They told him it was an opportunity to atone for his failure."

"Wow. Sucks to be him." Already the Human slang came naturally.

The Blademaster tilted his head.

"I mean, that must be difficult. To be given such a weighty and prominent position after such a terrible fall from grace."

"Indeed," Usze replied. He stared hard at 'Sraom's blade. "If he falls, perhaps we should make _you_ the next Arbiter."

N'tho knew that 'Taham was not serious. Only the Hierarchs could choose an Arbiter. The comparison and the gesture, however, were another veiled threat.

What had he done to make 'Taham hate him so much?

"Halt!" came the voice of Sergeant Johnson through the jungle. "We'll lay up here, have some lunch, get some rest. Eat quick, though, because at the first sign of Brutes, we're on the move again."

N'tho watched the Humans form a rough circle and begin pulling out foil packets from their pockets and sacks. Perez offered N'tho something he called "teriyaki beef," which N'tho quickly devoured, much to the fascination and disgust of the nearby Humans.

The Arbiter had taken a seat farther away from the group, next to the Demon, no less. N'tho felt his curiousity pique. He had some…_interesting_…memories of Thel 'Vadamee. Perhaps he might be able to ingratiate himself to the new Arbiter, and not need to fear the Blademaster's judgments.

N'tho excused himself, as though to urinate, but once behind a tree, he activated his cloaking device. He wanted to get an up-close look at the Demon, and at the new Arbiter.

N'tho crept up carefully behind the Arbiter and the Master Chief. His cloaking was good, but he knew that if either of them were to see a telltale shimmer, they would probably shoot first and regret that he wasn't a Brute later—a later he might not live to see.

Thel remained a magnificent example of a Sangheili, handsome in a way that made N'tho's knees go weak. The Arbiter armour shone golden in the sunlight, radiating a aura of ancient power, breathtaking…

But the Arbiter was not paying any attention to his absent honour guard. He had not noticed that N'tho had vanished. Instead, he appeared engrossed in a conversation with the Demon, which had removed its helmet to eat.

The Demon was…a Human. Just another Human. It looked like a pale variant of any other Human, dressed up in an oversized suit of armour. Was this really the monster of the Halos?

The Demon was speaking, in slow words, of his affection for his AI. The Arbiter confessed to having someone special as well, and held out a picture on his datapad for the Demon to see.

N'tho craned his neck to see the image on the Arbiter's datapad.

SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum.

N'tho felt suddenly crushed.

N'tho was the first to admit that he liked male company—regularly—and it didn't look like he'd be getting much of it here. He didn't have a hope in hell of competing against Rtas 'Vadum for the Arbiter's attentions. Thel 'Vadam was, and always had been, out of his league.

Rtas was out of reach for other reasons. When Kusovai had died—well, Rtas was a stiking warrior, and a sympathetic mentor, so of course N'tho had gone to the medical bay to visit. It had crossed his mind that if Rtas wanted a little personal comforting in his quarters later, N'tho would have been happy to oblige. But while Rtas had seemed pleased by the visit, one thing had been abundantly clear to N'tho—Rtas had been very much in love with Kusovai, and any damage inflicted on his body was nothing compared to the pain in his soul. The damage was beyond N'tho's capacity to soothe; even the offer might provoke Rtas to rage. N'tho had wished the SpecOps Commander a swift recovery and excused himself without ever expanding on those well wishes.

Slinking carefully away, N'tho wondered just what the Arbiter had done to make Rtas forget about Kusovai. It had probably been _incredible_…far more impressive than a submissive and willing Minor Domo could offer.

At least N'tho had found out before he'd said something to the Arbiter and ended up getting shot down in front of the Blademaster. The last thing he needed was 'Taham goading him on top of the embarrassment of rejection.

The sooner he stopped thinking about the Arbiter, the better.

Unfortunately, the planet Earth did not have that many distractions. He absolutely refused to cross the species line—he might be a slut, but he still had standards—and the only other Sangheili around was…

"Hey, Uzi," said Sergeant Johnson.

"It is _Usze_," the Blademaster responded frostily.

_Yeah_, N'tho thought_. How desperate am I?_

Sergeant Johnson looked confused. "Ussssszi," he tried. "You haven't had any dinner. Do you want some chili? Or chicken in sweet-and-sour sauce?" He held out two silver-wrapped packages.

"I am not hungry, thank you," Usze replied primly.

N'tho swallowed hard.

_Desperate enough to do whatever it takes to stop 'Taham from taking my sword._

N'tho didn't even want to think about that. He drove away his fear as he always did, with a jest. He snagged the second field ration out of Johnson's head, still cloaked, so the package appeared to fly on its own; he decloaked as he tore it open.

Johnson yelled out a swear word. "Don't you ever sneak up on me like that again, squidface, or I'll put a bullet through your dumbass head!"

N'tho didn't care. He'd ripped open the package, dumped the chicken directly into his mandibles, and was now holding it firmly gripped in the upper pair while the lower pair flayed the meat. He breathed in, sucking shredded chicken down his throat. Delicious.

"Eat fast, split-lip. We need to get moving," Johnson said. He raised his voice to address the group. "Swallow that down and let's head out. Nitro and B Squad are on left flank, Uzi, with A Squad on right flank, C Squad in the rear and the Arbiter is on point with the Master Chief. Shift it, people!"

"It's _Uzse_," the Ascetic insisted.

"Whatever."

*

As they jogged through the tangle of jungle, Usze 'Taham listened to the chattering of the Humans and wished he were back with the fleet. _Seeker of Truth _would have been a challenging posting—and he still had an unresolved duel with Fil Storamee—but it would have been better than this strange, damp, alien world he found himself on now.

He did not like this planet. The strange smells and bizarre natives made him feel uncomfortable. He'd found himself needling 'Sraom all day; he had no other subordinates on whom to exercise his power, and the role of Blademaster was a comforting familiarity on this alien world.

Usze had also lied to Johnson. He _was_ hungry. And he was rapidly approaching the point where even the Perfect Warrior would stoop to eating unknown foodstuffs mixed with plant matter. Even if it would require lifting the illusion of his anonymity by removing his helmet.

Laughter erupted from the left flank, some of it noticeably Sangheili. Usze sped up his pace and drifted left to catch up to them and observe N'tho.

'Sraom seemed to have struck up a good rapport with the Marines, and their conversation was a series of what seemed to be jokes about Brutes' mothers.

"A Brute's momma is so ugly, when you try to take her picture, she shatters your camera lens," said a Marine whose nametag read PEREZ.

"A Brute's momma is so fat," N'tho countered, "she's got her own moons held in orbit by her gravitational pull."

"A Brute's momma is so smelly," another Marine chimed in, "the government makes her wear a biohazard sign."

"A Brute's momma is so stupid, she sits on the TV and watches the couch."

Usze was not certain about the factual accuracy of any of these statements, but they certainly seemed to be amusing the group.

He was more concerned about how quickly N'tho was picking up Human speech mannerisms—starting with curse words and moving quickly on to Human slang. Usze could hardly understand what he was saying half the time. And why, by the names of all the Ancestors, was N'tho fitting in so quickly with the Humans when he was so awkward among other Sangheili?

Then a female Marine with straw-coloured hair happened to glance his way. She lowered her voice, but apparently she had no idea of how sharp a Sangheili's hearing was, because Usze heard her ask N'tho, "How come Uzi never takes his helmet off?"

N'tho answered, face perfectly composed, "It's 'cause he's really ugly under there, and he's sort of self conscious about it and doesn't want anyone else to see."

The Marines snickered, but the scowl on Usze's face was becoming permanent. He might not have had the classic good looks of the Sangheili battle statues that graced the pillars of the War College in Iruiru, but he was hardly ugly. N'tho's stupid joke just showcased the rookie's ignorance.

Ascetics wore their helmets almost all the time, because they were supposed to be avatars, living representations of a Sangheili ideal. When they took their vows, they subordined their own individual identities to the service of the Order; one of the methods of accomplishing this was hiding their unique facial features beneath covering armour. When other Sangheili looked at him, they were supposed to see the Perfect Warrior first, and Usze 'Taham second. It was like that for any Ascetic.

He wasn't ugly. He wasn't.

He let his strides shorten until N'tho and his Human comrades were ahead of him once more. B Squad was keeping pace with him, but although they were talking to one another, none of them addressed him.

Humans—these scrawny, squabbling little animals who had dared to_ name_ him, to change his given name Usze—the Sangheili word for "honourable"—to a word for a rocket launcher or some such. An inferior Human weapon, no less. It made his hearts pound with disgust and rage.

No. The Perfect Warrior focused on action, not emotion. Usze 'Taham wished he were that Perfect Warrior. Right now, he could not concentrate fully on his actions. He was too busy feeling alone, very alone, on this alien world.


	3. Chapter 3: Officer's Duty

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Third: Officer's Duty**

Time Setting: Halo 3, level "Crow's Nest"

TO: SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum

FROM: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

RE: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

Most esteemed Commander:

I wish to express some concerns regarding your subordinate, who is currently assigned to the Arbiter's honour guard.

Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom's conduct does not reflect the professionalism, dignity and self-discipline of an accomplished Sangheili warrior. I understand that his promotion to his current position was based on immediate need, but when time allows I suggest a stronger candidate be selected to replace him, as he makes a poor envoy for our species.

I have not voiced my concerns to the Arbiter as I believe it is important to maintain a unified front in the presence of the Humans. I have been unable to speak with the Arbiter privately due to the pace of current military operations. If you have the opportunity to pass on my concerns to the Arbiter, please feel free to do so. In the interim, 'Sraom's combat skills are strong and he will suffice for the present.

It is my recommendation that Minor Domo 'Sraom be recalled to his prior duties and the Honour Guard position filled by a more senior Sangheili.

For the glory of Sanghelios,

Usze 'Taham

Blademaster

*

TO: SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum

FROM: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

RE: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

Your Excellency:

I regret to inform you that Blademaster 'Taham is complicating our efforts to build an alliance with the Humans.

I respect the fact that the Blademaster is a decorated warrior and that it's his job to evaluate, criticize, and teach, but in my opinion, his holier-than-thou posturing and judgmental attitude are not the best way to interact with the Human species. Maybe you could suggest that the Blademaster be replaced with a more open-minded and sociable person.

I haven't discussed this with the Arbiter yet because we're too busy in battle and I don't want to say anything in front of the Humans. Maybe you could let the Arbiter know if you have a chance. Until then, Blademaster 'Taham is great at fighting; it's when he's not fighting that we have problems.

At the very least could you please tell him to get rid of that helmet? It creeps the Humans out when they can't see his face. This is some kind of cultural thing for them, and it's hard get them to cooperate with us when the Blademaster is upsetting them all the time.

In your service,

N'tho Sraom

Minor Domo

P.S. You'll owe Fil a favour if you ask her to send him a Combat helmet because I am pretty sure she hates his guts.

*

Usze had just settled into his bunk in the Crow's Nest base wearing only his jumpsuit, weapons newly cleaned and belly newly filled, when there was a knock on his door. Grumbling, Usze didn't bother putting on the rest of his armour, but he did drop his helmet over his head for the sake of appearances before he opened his door.

Sergeant Johnson stood there, tapping his foot. "You need to come down to the bar and retrieve your little buddy."

'Taham didn't have the patience for humans that N'tho did. He struggled to keep his temper. They were at _war_; even now, the Arbiter was meeting with the Human Commander Miranda Keyes. Usze was almost as certain that the forthcoming weeks would be full of rampaging Brutes, grenade-happy Grunts, cranky Jackal snipers, homicidal alien robot sentinels, and bloodthirsty undead. With _that _to look forward to, Usze had decided that the Perfect Warrior would use his brain and clean his weapons, eat some decent food, and finish up by getting all the sleep he could, because who knew when he'd get a chance again?

"Little buddy?" Usze asked, measuring the words carefully.

"Yeah. Nitro."

Usze felt his temper fray farther.

"What has 'Sraom done _this time_?"

"This time?" Sergeant Johnson raised an eyebrow. "A bunch of the guys built a bar in one of the unused storerooms. A few hours ago the off duty personnel went down for some drinks. Everything was fine until Doyle, this Newfie, pulls out a couple bottles of home-brewed screech and says he can drink anybody in the room under the table. Nitro took him up on the challenge and downed the whole bottle."

'Taham didn't grasp the entirety of what Johnson had said, but he was fairly certain he got the gist of it. "So 'Sraom has consumed a large quantity of an…intoxicating beverage."

"You got it, and I'm not having a drunk Elite charging around my base, breaking things and scaring my personnel. Your Arbiter's busy with Commander Keyes, so that makes Nitro your problem."

_Oh, N'tho, you fool_, Usze thought. 'Taham himself never consumed intoxicants. A Perfect Warrior had to be ready to do battle at any time; why deliberately cripple oneself with chemicals?

Johnson pressed his lips together. "Plus, I wanna make sure he's not gonna die or something, because the last thing I need is your boss pissed off at me."

"What is in this intoxicant?"

"Ethanol." Johnson pulled out a datapad, performed a search, displayed a file and showed it to 'Taham. Usze examined it.

"This substance is known to us. It will not harm him…but it will give him a terrible intestinal ache tomorrow morning." Usze pressed his mandibles together. "A fitting punishment for his stupidity." The Sangheili shook his head, embarrassed. "Permission to ask a question."

Johnson looked back at him, then nodded. "Shoot."

"Do you think it wise to allow your warriors to consume intoxicants when the Brutes are on the rampage not far away?"

Johnson sighed. "We're all stressed here. We're tired, and frightened, and wound-up. They're only allowed to drink when they're off-duty, and only ten percent of the base is off-duty at one time. Any risk we run by having some of our force under the influence is counterbalanced by the fact that if we don't give them some way to cope with the tension they're under, they'll crack and be useless to us all the time. Sometimes you just…need a break."

Usze shook his head disapprovingly. He did not require intoxicants to cope. But he was a stronger species, not fragile-minded like these humans.

Or, he thought as Johnson opened the door to the room that served as a bar, like N'tho 'Sraom.

'Sraom was not about to be charging around the base any time soon. The blue-armoured Elite was sound asleep in the middle of the floor. Two of the Humans were standing over him, looking concerned; the others clustered on chairs around the room. Usze's sensitive nose wrinkled at the strong aroma of alcohol.

'Taham crossed the room and kicked N'tho in the ribs.

N'tho let out a little oof, rolled to his side, and continued to sleep.

Usze kicked him again, rolling him right over onto his back. Nitro's head slammed into a chair leg. He blinked once, twice, and moaned.

"Get up," 'Taham snapped.

N'tho used the chair to slowly pull himself to his hooves; he was none too steady on his feet, and his eyes were only half-open and out of focus. But he greeted Usze and Johnson with a big fangy smile and announced proudly, "I'm the liquor champion of a hundred galaxies!"

Johnson made a strange noise. Usze looked over his shoulder.

The sergeant was laughing.

Usze, absolutely disgusted, grabbed N'tho by the nape of his neck. "Two choices…come along quietly or I bite you and haul you out of here like a hatchling."

"Bite? Does this mean we finally get to see you without the helmet?" N'tho replied. Usze became aware of the fact that the Humans were intently observing this scene. N'tho did not seem to care. "Or maybe you just want to bite me…well maybe you should do that somewhere private…unless you'd get off by having all these Humans watching us…"

'Taham tightened his grip until N'tho squealed in pain. "March," Usze hissed.

N'tho marched.

Once they were out of earshot of Johnson and the other Humans, Usze growled, "I will not have you making inappropriate sexual comments to a superior officer in the presence of lower life forms. This behaviour will have consequences beyond the pain you will be in tomorrow morning—rest assured of that. In the meantime, where are your quarters?"

"I don't know, sir," N'tho slurred.

"What?"

"I dunno…how to get there…from here…"

N'tho was too drunk to find his own chestplate, let alone his room in this warren of hallways and identical doors.

He should let 'Sraom sleep it off in the hall. Better yet, he should put 'Sraom somewhere unpleasant, like the meat locker, or the sewage room, to teach him a lesson.

But a nagging voice was telling him the Perfect Warrior took responsibility for his subordinates. And even though N'tho was technically not his direct subordinate, Johnson had asked him to take care of the other Elite. He could not shirk this duty, could he?

Usze sighed. When had his life become one disaster after another?

'Taham shoved 'Sraom ahead of him until they stood before a simple green door. Usze fumbled with the primitive human key.

"This ain't my room," N'tho slurred.

"No. It's mine."

N'tho beamed. "Aw, Usze, I didn't know you liked me."

"I don't." He shoved the other Elite through the doorway. "In."

'Sraom staggered across the threshold and sat heavily in the middle of the mattress Usze had so recently vacated. He shut his eyes and purred. "Warm." Then the blue-armoured Elite reached up, took off his helmet, dropped it on the floor, turned his back to Usze and bent his head in submission. "You still wanna bite me, Uzi?"

'Taham just stared, having no idea how to react to this offer.

Biting an Elite on the back of the neck, on the infamous sweet spot, caused the limbs and body to go limp. The reaction had evolved as a means for mothers to transport infants in their jaws without fear of the child injuring itself on its mother's teeth when it writhed in her grip. Civilization had caused the bite to become a mark of social dominance, until the coming of the Prophets had changed things, and now the bite was something taboo, done only in private between lovers…

N'tho tilted his head, waiting.

Usze fidgeted uncomfortably. "Be quiet and go to sleep."

"But I'm in full armour," N'tho wheedled.

Ascetics often slept in full armour, and he was tempted to tell 'Sraom to make do, but as he watched the drunken Sangheili fumble hopelessly with his plates, Usze realized that if he was going to get any sleep at all tonight, he would have to help.

He walked over, hauled N'tho to his feet and brusquely stripped N'tho down to his jumpsuit, with 'Sraom grinning all the while and leaning his head on Usze's arm. The other Elite smelled of alcohol, which made 'Taham wrinkle his muzzle in disgust.

"There. Now lie down and sleep."

Instead, N'tho dropped to his knees, bent over Usze's bunk. "When you gonna bite me?" N'tho smiled up at him hopefully.

Usze's last shred of patience snapped. He grabbed the other Sangheili by the throat, causing N'tho to whimper. "You are drunk, and out of order, soldier. You will hold your tongue and sleep or I will rip it out of your head!" He shook N'tho roughly and then released him, practically throwing him into the bunk.

N'tho dropped his gaze, shamed. "Yes sir." He pulled the blankets over him, wound himself up into a ball, and lay still.

'Taham sighed. He sat down against the wall, still fully armoured, and folded his arms over his chest for warmth. N'tho, the prating fool, did not deserve the bed.

But Usze 'Taham was an Ascetic and he would persevere.

Usze watched N'tho's chest rhythmically rising and falling. Slowly, he pulled out his data unit and connected to the Covenant BattleNet. As he ran a search on "N'tho 'Sraom, up came the usual personnel files, school records, list of units, missions, awards…a file of disciplinary actions as well…and something else.

Usze clicked on it. His mouth went dry.

Page after page of images, descriptions—_by the Rings, video_—of N'tho 'Sraom in what by all rights should be _private _situations. Usze stared. His reaction ranged from sick fascination to disgust as he flicked through the list. 'Sraom, on his knees in the barracks. 'Sraom, bent over the bar in the mess. Over a weapons rack. Over the hood of a Wraith. N'tho in chains before the command console of a ship… with _three other warriors…_

Sickened, Usze turned off the comm unit. His head turned to the sleeping figure in his bunk. He didn't even want N'tho on his sheets right about now. It seemed as though N'tho had stooped for most of his old unit and a good number of other personnel as well. Despicable. Revolting.

But then Usze remembered how it had felt to stare that Brute in the face and know he was looking at his own death, until N'tho had burst out of nowhere with his grenades. Or N'tho slicing Jiralhanae on Delta Halo, his blade an arc of blue fire. Or N'tho building bridges with the Humans, who still looked askance at Usze and the Arbiter.

N'tho was a warrior. A bold one, a skilled one. Why would he want to be the fleet's sexual plaything?

Usze watched the sleeping Minor Domo. N'tho was still in a ball, whimpering softly in his sleep. Usze watched him for a long, long time.

And suddenly a thought crossed his mind.

_Why did all those movies and photos have Sangheili military surveillance codes on them?_

*

N'tho woke up with an ache in his belly, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of another's scent.

Oh, by the Forerunners, not again.

His vision was blurry. He blinked a few times; his left eye cleared, his right one did not. He began to get a sinking feeling that the shrapnel burst back on Delta Halo might have actually done some damage.

Where was he? He rolled over and found himself alone in the bed.

The bastard hadn't even left a note, whoever he had been.

N'tho wracked his brain, but most of his memories from last night were absent without leave. He only remembered scoffing at Doyle's insistence that his screech was strong stuff; everything after that was a haze. The Human had not been exaggerating. His homebrew had been more than enough to drop a Sangheili.

Who had he slept with?

Oh, by the Rings, please, not a Human.

'Sraom looked around the room. The quarters were almost bare, but against the wall was something unidentifiable—large, purple…

He blinked again, making certain his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Usze 'Taham leaned against the wall, head tilted back, arms folded. The other Sangheili's helmet turned in his direction. "Ah. I see you're awake. And how are you feeling?"

N'tho thought about it. His muscles ached, and by the Forerunners, his belly throbbed. "Well, I've got a bit of a stomach-ache..."

"Which you soundly deserved. Limit your consumption of ethanol or I will have no choice but to deem you unworthy of the blade you carry."

N'tho shut his eyes, waiting for the ache to subside. "If you come over here, I can show you again just how worthy I am."

Usze stood up and walked closer, but as N'tho stretched, he realized that 'Taham was not joining him in bed. He felt a sinking sensation inside that was not caused by alcohol. He flipped over, looking up. 'Taham towered over the bed, his arms folded disapprovingly.

"One more suggestive comment from you, 'Sraom, and that sword is _history_," the Blademaster growled.

N'tho sat up straight, gulping, almost forgetting the way his insides turned over in the fear that gripped his throat. "But sir, didn't we…"

"We most certainly did _not_." The scowl in his voice was _audible_.

'Sraom could not make sense of it. "Sir, I don't understand why I'm in your bed, then."

"Because you were too drunk to find your own, you fool!"

N'tho shook his head. "But you could've left me where I was. Or anywhere, really." He paused. "Or on your floor."

"I didn't. Be grateful."

"If I show you my _gratitude_ you'll take my sword away."

"Are you mad? What in all the Ancestors' holy names possesses you to say such things? By the Rings, 'Sraom, I thought you _hated _me."

"You're not _that _bad." He gave Usze a guilty smile. "And you're the only game in town."

Usze did not appear impressed. "Why don't you go ask the Arbiter? I hear he'd appreciate that sort of offer."

The SpecOps warrior scowled. "Where have _you _been? Haven't you noticed how the Arbiter and Commander 'Vadum look at each other? Yeah, I really want to get in the middle of _that_. Or do you _want _'Vadum to beat the crap out of me?" He climbed to his feet. Part of him was sorry to leave Usze's bed behind—it was warm, and smelled nice, and the fact that the Blademaster had looked after him while he was intoxicated made him feel strange inside. Was it possible 'Taham did not hate him? After all, 'Taham could have had his sword already if he truly wished to shame him…

"As I hear, that did not stop you from pursuing SpecOps Subcommander 'Otsed," Usze replied acidly, and N'tho felt sick all over again, and it had nothing to do with the screech.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked, his mouth dry.

"It's all over the BattleNet," 'Taham replied with disgust. "I did a little research last night. You've got quite the reputation, you know. Your old unit has posted a lot of messages informing SpecOps that you're the one to see for a good time. Advice that Subcommander 'Otsed has already taken."

"Oh, shit," N'tho muttered. "Shipmaster 'Gamul is going to kill me."

The Blademaster pounced on that comment. "What's 'Gamul got to do with this?"

"He's banging 'Otsed…I mean…it's a secret, I didn't know until it was too late, please don't tell anyone…"

"Well, you're certainly in _another_ fine mess, aren't you?" 'Taham sounded sadistically amused as he leaned back against the wall. "If you really wanted to keep me quiet, you'd draw your sword on me instead of begging like a Grunt for the teat."

"If I drew my sword on you, one of us would have to kill the other." N'tho narrowed his eyes. "And you know, maybe I could take you. But with the Prophets and the Brutes out to kill us, we've all got better ways to die. Maybe when this is over, we can have it out…but right now we don't have that luxury."

'Taham nodded. "Just when I thought you were a fool…you are absolutely right. When this is done, we will have a reckoning. Until then, warrior, go clean yourself and prepare for duty."


	4. Chapter 4: Confusion's Haze

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Fourth: Confusion's Haze**

Time setting: Halo 3, levels "Crow's Nest," "Tsavo Highway," and "The Storm"

TO: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

FROM: SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum

RE: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

Blademaster:

Your concerns have been duly noted. I shall inventory my SpecOps personnel and choose alternate candidates for the Arbiter's evaluation. Be aware, however, that the ranks of SpecOps have been severely depleted by combat losses, and it may be some time before a replacement can be spared.

I am tasking you to write a brief report on the development of Sangheili-Human relations, with particular emphasis on the role of the Arbiter's Honour Guards in the strengthening of our new alliance. I understand that combat takes precidence; nevertheless, I wish to emphasize the fact that yourself and 'Sraom are two of only three Sangheili in regular contact with Humans.

With all good will, if you are unhappy in your current position, I would certainly welcome you aboard _Shadow of Intent_.

In our fathers' honour,

Rtas 'Vadum

SpecOps Commander

PS What did you do to make Fil Storamee so angry? I have requisitioned a Combat helmet for you, in deference to the Human custom regarding visible faces, and she had many things to say about you—most of them unrepeatable over public comms.

*

TO: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

FROM: SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum

RE: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

Minor Domo:

Your concerns have been duly noted. I shall inventory my carrier's personnel and choose alternate candidates for the Arbiter's evaluation.

The Arbiter congratulates you on your skill at interactions with the Humans, and we are currently considering how best to use your abilities in this area. When the current battle is over, you may be recalled to SpecOps, or posted long-term on Earth. In consideration for your service, I will take your wishes into account. Do, however, realize that your professionalism will also factor into my final decision, and conduct yourself accordingly.

In our fathers' honour,

Rtas 'Vadum

SpecOps Commander

PS Try not to antagonize the Blademaster—though I understand that it can be difficult.

*

TO: Chief Quartermaster Fil Storamee

FROM: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

RE: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

Dear Fil:

Usze 'Taham is a total jerk.

I hate him.

Best wishes,

"Nitro"

*

N'tho trudged away from the Crow's Nest showers, newly armoured, not sure what to do with himself now.

He wished he could go talk to Pti 'Firogee to get some advice, but 'Firogee had been one of the SpecOps soldiers killed on Delta Halo by the Brutes. Fil Storamee had already left with Commander 'Vadum, returning to _Shadow of Intent_. N'tho suddenly felt very alone, and there was really nobody he knew that he could go to be with.

By the Rings, he'd propositioned—and been shot down by—that stuck-up aristocrat Usze 'Taham, hereby proving that he was lonely and desperate enough to fuck anything, and if he didn't get back to his quarters and lock himself in right now, he'd end up in bed with someone truly awful, like...like a Jackal.

The fact that a Jackal was sounding not too bad right about now meant that his depression was starting to affect his mind.

N'tho opened a door and bumped into someone standing in the hallway.

"Sorry," 'Sraom muttered.

There was no answer. N'tho suddenly registered that first, he was standing in a _dark _hallway, and secondly, the person was big, big enough to send N'tho stumbling. Humans didn't grow that large. And the only Elites in Crow's Nest were himself, Usze, and the Arbiter.

N'tho didn't remember the Arbiter wearing blue armour.

Or being hairy.

He barely ducked in time as the Brute pulled out a pair of Spikers and unleashed a hail of darts in his direction. N'tho let the spikes pass over his head. He whipped out his energy sword and thrust his fist upwards, igniting the sword as he raised his arm, letting it trash the Brute's energy shields.

He'd left his plasma rifle, grenades, and carbine in his room; a fully armed Elite walking around the base might scare the Humans. The only weapon he had was the blade, because it was concealable.

The Brute roared and swung its meaty fists. N'tho's chest plate took the brunt of the damage, though he had no doubt he'd have bruises tomorrow.

'Sraom didn't even bother trying to maneuver his sword at close quarters. He didn't need the blades getting snagged in the Brute's ribcage or caught on its armour. Instead he deactivated it, repositioned, and activated it again so the blade snapped to life right through the Brute's throat. The big Jiralhanae gurgled and died. Its life's blood dribbled down N'tho's arm.

'Sraom realized, all of a sudden, that alarms were going off and lights were flashing. This Brute wasn't a spy—he was part of a wholesale assault.

_Usze._

N'tho sprinted down the hallway, in search of the claret-armoured swordsman.

*

The barracks were full of Brutes.

Usze blasted away at the Jiralhanae, a plasma pistol in one hand to decimate their shields, a Magnum in the other to punch holes in their skulls. The combination was devastating one-on-one.

But now there were five or six Brutes coming his way, and the plasma pistol's battery was running low.

"Hey fuckers!" came a voice from behind him. "Eat shit and die!"

A rocket whistled past Usze's shoulder and plowed into the ranks of the Brutes. The explosion send Usze staggering and rattled the teeth in his skull. His shields flared as debris rained down all around him.

Beside him, N'tho 'Sraom was holding a rocket launcher and laughing maniacally.

It was the laugh that drove Usze over the edge. 'Taham grabbed the other Elite by the collar, slammed him bodily into the wall. "When are you going to shut up?" the Blademaster hissed. "This is no laughing matter!"

N'tho kicked, landing a hoof in 'Taham's midsection. The other Sangheili's grip loosened enough for N'tho to writhe free; once his feet were back on the earth, he thrust his head right up into Usze's helmet. "Sometimes, sir," he growled, "when you _stop _laughing, you _start _screaming. Save your critique for something important!"

Nitro was out of line, and Nitro knew it, too. Usze could see the fear in his eyes—and now, this close, he could see that N'tho's right eye was out of focus. He'd been injured, and was hiding it, the magnificent, reckless, renegade…

…who had just helped him out of a nasty situation. Again.

Usze became suddenly, acutely aware of how close N'tho was. He could smell the scent of him through his helmet, feel the heat coming off his body…that smell so familiar from the night before…

Damn those images on the BattleNet! Now every time he looked at 'Sraom, his brain automatically started thinking about sex!

"You might want to pick up a plasma pistol," Usze muttered instead. "It drops the Brutes' shields. Makes the kill easier."

N'tho's mandibles gaped as he stared.

Usze, wordless, turned away.

*

Nitro hammered away at the invading Brutes with a plasma pistol in one hand and a Magnum in the other. Uzi was right—this combo really worked! The suggestion had been…almost nice of him. N'tho wondered why Usze was being nice even after making it clear that he wasn't interested in sex.

N'tho 'Sroam knew that he ought to count his blessings, that he hadn't fucked the Blademaster while drunk. Somehow, though, he felt strangely regretful. Of course, it would be better yet if he had done it and had also been able to remember it…

N'tho shook his head, pushing these dangerous thoughts away. Just because there were worse people to wake up next to…like a Human, or a Brute, or Rycl 'Otsod…didn't mean that mating with Usze 'Taham would be a good thing.

But N'tho couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the Blademaster as they plowed through the ranks of the attacking Covenant soldiers.

Usze 'Taham was not particularly large or powerful for an Elite, but he moved with a sinuous grace, every step measured. His strikes were lethally precise; not a single movement was wasted. He passed through the ranks of the Brutes as though the battle were a dance, and he left dead and dying Jiralhanae in his wake. He had turned carnage into an art form, and as N'tho watched him, the SpecOps warrior knew he was looking at a master.

By the Ancestors, what would he be like in bed?

N'tho imagined those hands moving over his skin in the same carefully calculated movements, now expressed as strokes and caresses. What it would be like to feel that body moving against his with the same artistry…

The thought made N'tho weak in the knees.

He shook his head, knowing he had to concentrate on the battle. He could think about Uzi and sex later…

…he shouldn't be thinking about it at all, but he knew himself better than that. He knew what he'd be dreaming about when he next had a chance to sleep.

'Taham could have really hurt him. He'd been unconscious, at the Blademaster's mercy, and Usze had been angry with him. He'd seen other warriors with patterns carved into their flesh by displeased superior officers; N'tho might well have ended up the same. Instead, the bruises on his ribs were almost healed already. Sangheili society was very physically demonstrative; N'tho would have lost respect for 'Taham if he'd been completely unscathed for his sin. But to escape so lightly…'Taham had been very merciful. Maybe Uzi liked him, just a little bit…

On the other hand, 'Taham had seemed disgusted, not intrigued, by N'tho's advances.

N'tho sighed. 'Taham might only like females. Wouldn't that be just his luck.

*

_Sometimes when you stop laughing, you start screaming._

Usze couldn't get N'tho's words out of his mind as he manned the Warthog's turret while 'Sraom drove down the Tsavo Highway.

Usze 'Taham was neither a laugher, nor a screamer, nor much of anything, really. His own family—his mother and stepfather and uncles and half-sibs, the only people who ever saw him without his helmet—had remarked on it, on how little emotion he showed. He knew it made his uncles worry. His stepfather had even gone so far as to say that an Elite should be passionate, and love his honour and his people with a burning fervour that shone like a flame.

But it was easier to feel nothing. 'Sraom had essentially admitted it—being emotional put you that much closer to breakdowns, to sorrow and terror and rage and loss. In a war like this one, distance was invaluable. It could save your life.

'Taham had to admit, though, that not everyone was cut out to be an Ascetic. There was the Perfect Warrior, a being who existed only in the Sangheili collective imagination, and then there was reality, a species of creatures who all fell more or less short of that glorious ideal. Some of them were inevitably going to be farther from perfection than others, and that included emotional beings like N'tho 'Sraom.

But 'Sraom wasn't useless, not at all. It seemed that it was that same emotional nature that made the Humans like him. He laughed at their stories, understood their grief, shared their hatred and fear of the Brutes. While the Humans still looked at Usze with suspicion, they opened right up to N'tho. And he adapted to Human equipment—like this Warthog—with ease. No, N'tho wasn't an incompetant. He was just…_different_.

And if he was different but valuable, then he had to have his own ways of coping with the hell around him. It seemed as though by making fun of the situation, he could keep his mind too busy to dwell on his fears. If he were to stop, those terrors might rise up and overwhelm him.

So Usze vowed to try to have a little more patience with N'tho's stupid jokes and mocking remarks. He needed the other Sangheili to help him relate to the Humans, so he would be more tolerant, and stop dwelling on 'Sraom's failures.

Instead, he found himself dwelling on the particular nuances of 'Sraom's scent wafting back from the driver's seat. And the glee in his eyes when he charged into battle, and the skill with which he operated the Human machine, and the absolute fearless courage the SpecOps warrior displayed over and over. It didn't matter how many Brutes there were, or how much armour they wore, or what weapons they carried—'Sraom charged forward, reveling in the battle, glorying in the challenge, and his enthusiasm swept the Human soldiers forward in his wake.

_You still wanna bite me, Uzi?_

He didn't dare think about those images on the BattleNet…or of what might happen if the answer to N'tho's question turned out to be _yes_.

*

Laid up on a hill outside the city, in the wreckage of a now-silent anti-aircraft battery, the surviving Marines and the two Sangheili took a moment to catch their breath. In between bites of "pork sui choi" wrapped in tin foil, Nitro activated his comm unit, hoping to catch up on the latest BattleNet news. Instead, his mailbox popped open, displaying the first communication.

TO: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom, SpecOps

FROM: Minor Domo Ki 'Chaz, SpecOps

RE: SpecOps Party

Greetings to my newest battle brother!

When this is over, SpecOps is going to be having one hell of a party! Subcommander 'Otsed has already invited every single Sangheili taking part in this operation. We are going to set _Shadow of Intent _on _fire_. Get ready!

Come by my quarters first if you like…we could have our own private party.

Ki

*

N'tho blinked. He didn't feel that he'd gotten to know any of the SpecOps warriors well enough to be getting invitations like this so _soon_. Still, it was flattering and it might be fun…

He closed the message. Another popped open.

TO: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom, SpecOps

FROM: Zealot Aj 'Qorop, Shipboard Operations

RE: Nice movie.

You never change, do you?

If you put up any footage of me, I'm going to kick your ass.

Aj

PS See you at the SpecOps party. Bring your own chains.

*

"Movie?" N'tho muttered to himself. He toggled to the third message.

TO: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom, SpecOps

FROM: Major Domo Khuf Toruf, 895th Battle Group

RE: Hot stuff

Hey there,

If you want some excitement, give me a call.

N'tho blinked again. "I don't even know this guy!" He glanced at the subjects of the next few messages; they all appeared to be either come-ons, or invitations to the SpecOps party which also contained come-ons.

Nitro liked sex a lot and he liked attention even more, but as he scrolled through the very long list of messages waiting for him, he developed a sinking suspicion that he had gone from the 812th's unit slut to being the go-to guy for the entire Fleet of Retribution. How had it happened? By the Rings, there weren't enough battle accolades in the entire Sangheili military to compensate for the infamy he'd heap on his family name if he took up even half these invitations. He was recognizing names. Names of people he knew damn well had wives or bondmates; names of commanders; names accompanied by some very graphic subject lines which managed to shock even him. What could possibly have caused this?

Then he heard the beep of a live transmission. Feeling agitated, he activated the line. "Minor Domo 'Sraom," he said nervously.

"N'tho!" came a gravelly voice, and the image display unit showed a familiar face looking back at him.

"Piro," Nitro said with a grin, "What's up?"

Piro 'Kipaz was Nitro's best friend in his old unit, the 812th Battle Group. An older Sangheili, Piro should have retired to Sanghelios by now, but he stayed on in the fleet anyway. 'Kipaz would not be the first elder who preferred death in combat to life under the command of the Home Guard officers—ranking females.

Piro was one of the few Sangheili in the 812th who N'tho hadn't fooled around with. Nitro had offered once, but Kipaz had insisted that it would be wrong. Apparently he viewed N'tho like a nephew.

It had been the only rejection that had ever left N'tho feeling good. There was something nice about having a friend who didn't like you just for sex. It had felt comforting to know that Piro was around looking out for him, particularly when he'd done something stupid. And Piro had been so proud when N'tho had received his commission to SpecOps.

"Nothing good," came Piro's crackly voice over the line.

Nitro frowned. Piro, on the _Shadow of Intent_, was supposed to be picketing High Charity. Why was he close enough to Earth for instantaneous transmission?

"An infected cruiser is heading your way."

"To Earth?"

"Yes."

"Warn the Arbiter. And the Humans."

N'tho excused himself, lowered the comm and waved to attract the attention of one of the Marines. After passing on the message, he spoke to Piro again. "I've informed the Humans. They'll pass it on to the Arbiter and the Chief—they're on the other side of the city."

"Take care of yourself," 'Kipaz said. "When this is all over, can we get together and talk?" Piro sounded uncomfortable. "Before the others show up and want to, um…"

"Others? Show up to what?"

'Kipaz paused. "The activities in that file you put up on the BattleNet." He swallowed. "I have to say I'm rather surprised, N'tho. And somewhat disappointed. I thought you were going to become more respectable, start over. Remember? The last night before you went to SpecOps, you told me about wanting to make a new start. What went wrong?"

N'tho was about to say _Rycl 'Otsed and booze_, but then he blinked. "I don't know what you mean. What file?"

Now the other Sangheili looked worried. "You didn't put that up there?"

"Piro, don't tease."

But Piro wasn't laughing. "N'tho, there's a file full of pictures, and video, of you, up on the BattleNet."

"Pictures of me?"

"Yes. Pictures of you…_you know._"

"Oh." Understanding dawned, and horror came hard on its heels. "_What_?"

"Yes, it's pretty dirty, N'tho. I've heard the guys around here talking, and…they think it's an advertisement or something, half the ship wants a go…"

'Sraom felt sick. "Piro, I told you when I got promoted to SpecOps, my days of being everybody's fuck buddy are over. I'm a SpecOps soldier now. I've got to start acting respectable and stuff."

"Nobody's going to believe that as long as the file's on the BattleNet." Piro shook his head.

"I didn't put it there, Piro."

"Who did?"

N'tho had no idea. He was stunned to even think about it.  
Suddenly the comm unit was yanked out of his hands.

"Stop wasting time," Usze growled disapprovingly. "The Flood are in the city and you're sitting here yapping."

"Gimme that!" Nitro grabbed it back. "Piro, I gotta go. Message me about this link on the BattleNet and take care of yourself."

"Be careful, N'tho."

"You too. And Piro—thank you. I'm always going to have time for you. You're my friend. Don't forget that." He shut down the communication and turned the unit off.

"Who was that?" Usze sounded huffy and disapproving. "One of your many bed mates?"

"None of your business," N'tho retorted, "but if you must know, his name is Piro 'Kipaz and he's my friend, not my fuck buddy."

"If you say so." Uzi didn't sound as though he believed Nitro. At all.

N'tho swallowed. "Have you heard anything about me and, um, a file on the BattleNet?"

Usze nodded slowly.

Nitro felt sick.

"Did you…look?"

Usze nodded again.

Nitro felt sicker.

"Okay, give it to me."

Usze tilted his head. "What?"

"You've got something to say to me. I know it. So say it, get it over with. Please."

"I don't have any words to express my sentiments." Usze's tone of voice was an expressionless monotone; between the blank voice and the helmeted head, Usze's private thoughts were an enigma. N'tho wondered if he had any, or if he was completely blank inside as well as out.

N'tho bowed his head. "What is my punishment, Blademaster?"

"Did you put that file on the BattleNet?"

N'tho shook his head. "No, sir."

"Do you have access to security cameras?"

"No, sir."

"Do any of your…bed mates…have that kind of access?"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe." He looked up, curiously, not daring to ask why.

Uzi put his hands on his hips. "Whoever put that file up used Covenant security cameras to take those images. I had clearance to access the coding. What I do not have is clearance to get the name of the individual who posted it. It's protected, up to a _very _high level."

N'tho felt a glimmer of hope. "So you believe it wasn't me with a camera posting that to…er…advertise."

"Even if you didn't post it, you still did those things, 'Sraom. I am, ah, uncertain how to properly convey my shock, disgust, and general disapproval. That being said, yes, I do believe that you were unaware of both the filming and the public posting of said images."

"Can you…" N'tho swallowed. "Can you get that file removed?"

"Not without informing Commander 'Vadum."

N'tho swallowed again. "Then…"

"Which has already been done. Unfortunately, we're both aware of the fact that he has more pressing concerns." Usze leaned over and asked softly, "Why do you do it, Nitro?"

N'tho regarded the Blademaster. Uzi was close to him…really close…and his helmet was right next to N'tho's mandibles. If Nitro reached out his hand, he would be touching the Blademaster. 'Sraom did not dare to move at all.

"Why don't you find a bondmate and settle down?"

"I'll never have a bondmate," N'tho replied, his eyes on the ground.

"Why not? It seems to me a fine warrior like you should…"

He flinched away. Usze's kind words hurt, and Uzi must not know about… He didn't want to be blindsided by the Blademaster's condemnation when 'Taham read his file in detail. He didn't want to watch Uzi's attitude towards him change from this new kindness to disgust.

Or maybe 'Taham already had read it, and he had gone from simple needling to twisting the knife in deep. Maybe Uzi was being cruel…sarcastic…knowing all along that the simple dream of a bondmate was forever out of N'tho's reach.

When Sergeant Johnson radioed that the assault on the Flood-infested city had begun, N'tho felt a sudden relief. Right now he'd rather face the Parasite then confess his sins to Blademaster Usze 'Taham.


	5. Chapter 5: Desperation's Folly

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Fifth: Desperation's Folly**

Time setting: Halo 3, between levels "Floodgate" and "The Ark." Parallel to Twin Blades: Conflicts and Dueling Hearts (Chapters the Seventh and Eighth).

The Flood.

Usze 'Taham had never seen the Flood before. Oh, he'd read plenty of reports and even watched footage, but nothing quite compared to facing the Parasite one-on-one. Or, more accurately, one-on-five or ten or a hundred of the damned things.

He was a Sangheili warrior. He should be able to fight, and defeat, anything.

It wasn't the numbers. It wasn't their weapons, or their strength, or even their horrible rotting-flesh smell. It wasn't the bizarre alien nature of their Pure Forms, or the multitudes of their infection forms.

It was the way they reanimated the dead.

Beside him on Earth, Khuf 'Toruf, a warrior from Usze's old squadron, had fallen to a combat form's bullet. Usze had watched him die, as he'd watched countless other battle brothers leave this life.

Then an Infection Form had scuttled over 'Toruf's corpse, and Usze had been forced to turn his attention away from his fallen comrade to save his own life. He'd sliced through a trio of former Humans with his energy blade, and when he'd turned….

Khuf had been on his feet again, but it wasn't really Khuf—it was a tentacled monstrosity with Khuf's body, and Khuf's head was hanging broken and useless off to the side, and Khuf's sword was rising to meet his…

Usze had eviscerated the thing that once was Khuf and wondered how the hell Rtas 'Vadum had managed to hold himself together long enough to kill his bondmate this way.

No, the incident had shown Usze the wisdom of keeping an emotional distance from his battle brothers. He was better off alone. He was.

But now, aboard the _Shadow of Intent_, heading for the Ark, Usze couldn't stop shaking. He'd fled to an unassigned cabin, praying nobody saw him. He was no role model for anyone right now. He was curled up on a bunk in only his bodysuit with the zipper partway undone, his armour on the floor, but the memories would not let him sleep.

Combat stress fatigue was something that happened to other people. Cowards. Not to Ascetics. Not to Usze 'Taham.

But Khuf 'Toruf had risen from the dead to kill him, and he'd put a blade through his battle brother's chest.

Usze felt ill. He ripped off his helmet, fearing he might be sick inside it. He retched, but nothing came out of him.

How long since he'd eaten?

He didn't know. It felt as though he'd been fighting forever.

Then he heard voices in the corridor.

"No. Sir."

"You, disinterested? I do not believe you."

"Sir, with all due respect, you have a wife _and_ a consort, and your consort is also my superior officer, and if he catches me with you, he's going to beat the shit out of me."

The voices were familiar. Usze slunk across the room towards the door, feeling guilty for straining to hear, unable to stop himself.

"Don't play games with me, you little fool. You've already mated with my consort. You could have given Rycl this wronged innocent routine, but you didn't, did you?" There was a thudding noise, a cry of pain.

"I didn't know Subcommander 'Otsed was your consort. I swear I didn't."

"And you didn't bother to ask. Did you even ask his _name_?"

Usze eased the door open just a crack.

Shipmaster Epse 'Gamul had N'tho 'Sraom up against the wall. 'Sraom's wrists were held tight in 'Gamul's grip and pinned over his head; 'Gamul's other hand was caressing N'tho's mandibles as 'Sraom tried to turn his face away.

"I'm not…the fleet's slut…sir…" N'tho choked.

"That's not what I've heard." Epse's voice was becoming hard, cruel. "I've seen your little file on the BattleNet. I know what you are." His smile twisted. "So you can do for me what you did for Rycl, or you can suffer the consequences of coming between a Shipmaster and his consort."

Usze felt his stomach lurch.

N'tho was a bit of a handful, no doubt about that, but the Shipmaster was pushing his authority to its limit and beyond. And from the sounds issuing from N'tho's mouth, the younger warrior didn't want any part of this. By the Ancestors, the proper punishment for his foolish indiscretions shouldn't be a night at the mercy of the Shipmaster's predations.

"Sir…please…I've got an injury…"

"Feh. Flesh wound. Now come along quietly, or I can assure you you'll spend the rest of your _very short _military career wishing you'd failed basic training." He chuckled, a low, evil sound.

Usze had heard enough. Whatever N'tho might have done, he did not deserve what 'Gamul had in mind.

Usze triggered the portal to open, then stepped back to the middle of the room and barked, "N'tho 'Sraom, where in the name of the Ancestors are you? Do you want me to tend that wound or not?" And he held his breath.

He kept his back to the door as he heard someone step inside. Harsh breathing filled the room.

Thank the Forerunners. Shipmaster or no, Epse 'Gamul hadn't wanted anyone to know what he was doing to N'tho. He'd released the young Minor once he thought someone was expecting N'tho's presence.

"Usze." N'tho's voice was a strangled whisper. "By the Forerunners. I…"

"Who's there?" came 'Gamul's voice.

'Taham dropped his helmet over his head and stepped out of his room, placing himself between N'tho and 'Gamul.

The Shipmaster halted and nodded. "Blademaster."

"I am going to perform some first aid on 'Sraom," 'Taham said, nodding to the blue warrior, "and we are going to discuss his sword skills and combat performance. Unless you needed him?"

Usze held his breath again. The Shipmaster's word was law on his vessel, but Usze's position made him the authority on individual combat performance. They both had the power to bring one another to the attention of higher officers. And 'Gamul had more to lose than Usze did—the Arbiter had never permitted forced mating in his fleet—but if 'Gamul pressed the issue, Usze would have no choice but to draw blade on him. That would mean a battle to the death.

'Gamul backed down. "No. I can settle my business with 'Sraom later." He shot a glance at N'tho, threatening that there would be a later…then glanced at Usze. "Did you…hear anything, 'Taham?"

"Hear what?" 'Taham replied innocently.

'Gamul nodded and turned to walk away. Usze returned to his room and closed the portal, locking it.

N'tho stood frozen just inside the door, his back against it, staring open-eyed as if not entirely sure whether Usze was his salvation or a new torment.

"You said you were injured."

N'tho nodded.

"Where?"

"On my back. Sir."

"Get out of your armour." He reached for the first-aid kit bracketed on the wall.

N'tho was still staring at him.

"What is wrong with you?"

N'tho suddenly flashed him a crooked smile. "Hey," he said softly. "You haven't got any armour on, but you're still wearing that helmet."

Condemnation! 'Taham scowled. "Do you want that injury tended or not?"

N'tho nodded, starting to remove his armour. He was shaking too, Usze realized. His hands were trembling and the task was going slowly.

Usze slipped his right hand under N'tho's helm and lifted it off. Setting it aside, he guided the rookie's head under his chin and held him close. Usze didn't even consciously realize what he was doing until he felt N'tho burrow into his neck and start to purr. It was a thin and reedy sound, not contentment so much as a desperate wish for contentment, as though N'tho was trying to fool himself into thinking everything was all right.

"Here," Usze said softly, getting rid of the last of Nitro's armour. "Now show me that wound."

N'tho nodded and unzipped his bodysuit.

The first thing Usze noticed was that the young warrior had a very nicely shaped chest.

The second thing he noticed, as N'tho pulled the suit over his shoulders, was a fist-sized Mark of Punishment branded on N'tho's right bicep.

By the Rings, what had N'tho done? Nobody got a Mark of Punishment just for sleeping around. Could he possibly deserve…

No. N'tho didn't deserve what 'Gamul was trying to do to him.

N'tho pushed the bodysuit down to his hips and laid on his belly on the bunk. Usze could see the wound now, crusted with purple blood, still oozing. It was located near N'tho's waist, where the back armour did not cover. N'tho's bodysuit was so low and loose that Usze could see the upper curve of his rear and…

He wouldn't think about that. He had to focus on the task at hand.

'Taham opened the kit and selected some healing jelly. "You should have taken care of that sooner," he chided.

"'Scuse me for not being able to _reach my own back_," N'tho growled.

And nobody had helped him. It unsettled Usze. Sangheili were supposed to assist their battle brothers. Had N'tho not asked or had nobody answered him?

"Maybe if you had a better attitude, people would be more considerate towards you," Usze said as he moistened a cloth at the sink. He sat on the edge of the bed and dabbed at N'tho's wound.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"And you're developing bad habits from the Humans."

"Great, pain _and _a lecture," N'tho muttered.

Usze's temper sparked at last. "Would you rather be back out in the hall?"

"No. Sir." N'tho lay quietly as Usze finished cleaning the wound. It was ugly, a puncture more than a cut, as though something had gouged a runnel into the SpecOps soldier's flesh.

"Brace yourself. This might sting."

Usze carefully poured disinfectant into the tear. N'tho's mandibles clicked together, but he didn't cry out or even so much as grunt.

Usze opened the jelly tube and carefully squeezed the substance into N'tho's wound. The thick jelly would coat the flesh, stopping the bleeding and stimulating healing. N'tho finally made a sound as the jelly entered his cut—a combination of a sigh and a moan. It made Usze's skin prickle for some reason he did not understand.

"There. That should take care of it." 'Taham hesitated, then continued, "If you would take some advice, I would suggest you get some sleep. When we arrive at the Ark, we will be back in action."

"Okay." N'tho rolled onto his side. "Can I sleep here? Please?"

Usze's hearts sank. He didn't want to be stuck with 'Sraom all night and he was _not _giving up his bed a second time. But he couldn't exactly put him out either, not when Epse 'Gamul might still be prowling around. Usze wasn't exactly sure how to deal with that situation. He knew he had to report it to the Arbiter, and he would, but right now, the life-or-death nature of their mission to the Ark made all other concerns secondary. He would have to deal with 'Gamul later.

Meaning he was stuck with 'Sraom tonight. Again.

"Behave yourself or you are sleeping in the hall. Are we clear?" Usze dimmed the lights to a faint glow.

"Yeah. I mean, _yes, sir_."

Usze sighed. "I hear you are not supposed to use honourifics in bed."

"Some guys really get off on it." Nitro looked hopeful.

"I didn't need to hear that." He pushed the images which those words had inspired out of his head.

"Yes si…okay."

"Move over."

"Okay." N'tho shifted carefully to the other side of the bunk, then he lifted his head. "Do I have to put my armour back on?"

No. Yes. Usze didn't know what to say. "This bed will be even smaller if you do," he said carefully. "Do you usually sleep in armour?"

"Hell no, do you?"

"Not always, but often."

N'tho's left upper mandible flickered.

"It is an Ascetic practice."

"Yeah. You guys are crazy. No offense."

'Taham sighed, dimmed the lights, and climbed into the bed. Even with their armour off, the bunk was awfully small when there were two bodies in it. Usze found that if he didn't want part of him hanging over the edge of the mattress, he had to press right up against N'tho.

Warm. Strong muscles, yet strangely soft against his skin. Velvet hide. The scent of warrior, musky and hypnotic, stronger for the heat … Usze's mouth was dry, and his head was spinning.

Why had he left his bodysuit partially unzipped?

Why hadn't he zipped it up?

Why hadn't he unzipped it farther?

And N'tho, the little pest, he seemed quite content to sleep with his own suit half-off!

N'tho wriggled and rolled over to face him; then N'tho smiled shyly at him and said, "You actually look pretty good under the armour." The rookie dared to raise his hand and trail his fingers lightly over Usze's chest. "Why don't you get rid of the helmet?"

'Taham closed his eyes. N'tho continued to stroke him, moving his hand under the bodysuit to explore more of the Blademaster's chest.

By the Rings, this wouldn't be happening if it weren't for the Flood, and the stress, and his damnable fear…

By the _Ancestors_, it felt good!

The opening in Usze's suit grew larger, larger, as N'tho continued to seek out new territory to touch. The young warrior's hand trailed lower as he leaned over and whispered, "Would you like to…" And his hand trailed over Usze's scars…those two horrible scars across his lower abdomen…

Usze panicked and shoved N'tho away from him. The other Sangheili cringed as if struck, scrambled not to fall off the bed, then flared his mandibles in anger. "You don't have to be such a dickweed!"

Usze wasn't sure what a _dickweed _was, but he could guess it wasn't flattering. He had no words to explain why he'd lost control—why he was so frightened and yet so very excited all at once.

N'tho rolled over onto his other side, hunched over and bristling with anger. "I just wanted to thank you," he growled, his back to Uzi now. "You're a damn sight better than Epse 'Gamul."

'Taham summoned his courage, dared to touch N'tho's shoulder. "I cannot…" His voice trailed off. "I don't mate with males."

"Oh." N'tho rolled onto his back and tilted his head quizically. "Really?"

"Really."

A pause. "Not even once or twice?"

"No."

N'tho raised his eyebrow ridges. Usze had known he would. What Sangheili hadn't at least experimented with his battle brothers? Even those who described themselves as "straight" had usually sampled the alternative.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…"

"It is not anything you did wrong," Usze said gently. "It is simply who I am."

All the while he felt as though he were lying through his mandibles, even though the words were technically true—he never had been with a male. He had never seen the point. Mating with females was agreeable enough, but he still only did it for reproductive purposes. He had never done it for fun. He had never craved it. Not the way he was still thinking about N'tho's skin on his…

"That's kind of too bad," N'tho said, blinking up at him. "I…well…let me know what you want me to do for you. I owe you. You really did save my ass there."

"The Shipmaster is out of line."

"It's my fault."

"We'll talk about this when our mission is over. You need to rest, and to heal. In the meantime, I will keep you safe from Epse."

N'tho was watching him warily. "What do you want from me?"

Usze gritted his teeth. "I want you to shut your mouth and go to sleep."

"Yes si…Usze. Goodnight." The younger Sangheili obediently rolled onto his side, facing the wall again.

Usze sighed, steeled his nerves and settled into position next to N'tho.

By the Rings, his bedmate was warm. His scent began, once again, to tickle its way through Usze's brain. 'Taham became acutely conscious of the way N'tho's body was molded against his, as though they were made to fit together…

…how closely could they fit together?

Usze sucked in a breath and flipped onto his back. His shoulder was hanging over the edge of the mattress. He didn't care. He was suddenly, painfully hard, and the last thing he wanted was for N'tho to know, because he'd just turned Nitro down and he didn't even _like _males that way.

N'tho wasn't resting easily either. He was fidgeting, rolling over, twitching, rolling over some more. Between the fidgeting and the hard-on, it was impossible for Usze to sleep.

'Sraom whimpered and thrashed, poking 'Taham in the belly.

"What is wrong with you?" Usze demanded.

Silence.

So he made it an order. "I said, soldier, what is wrong with you?"

"I, uh…I can't sleep because I'm, er, _tense_, and…."

"You're horny." The minute the words were out of his mouth, Usze couldn't believe he said them. Now _he _was getting infected by Human slang and vulgarity.

"Yeah."

Usze rolled his eyes. "How can you be aroused after what just happened to you out in the hall?"

"Ancient history. All my body cares is what's happening to me now."

Usze froze. "And what is happening now?"

"Right now…" His words came out in a rush. "Right now you feel really good."

By the Rings! 'Taham bit down on his mandibles, hard. Did he really feel pleasing? And to someone like Nitro, who'd sampled other males and ought to know what he liked? He waited until he had control of his voice before he asked, "Are you going to take care of it or not?"

Pause. "I promised to behave."

"You are keeping me awake."

"Sorry…" N'tho's mandibles clicked. "It's not like I wanted to…I can't help it, you just feel so good…you know, like an animal reaction to how warm you are and how close you are…I don't know what to do."

'Taham sighed. "Here." He rolled over, fitting his chest against the other warrior's back, hoping to the Forerunners that if N'tho could tell what his body had done, that he would not say anything about it.

"Wha?" N'tho sounded dazed.

It felt unreal, like a dream, when Usze reached his hand over to touch the silky hide on 'Sraom's belly.

"Put your hand over mine," Usze whispered.

N'tho complied. His touch was light, hesitant. His palm was moist and warm.

'Taham closed his eyes, not knowing if he was about to bless his battle brother or damn himself. "Show me what to do."

"Si…Uzi?" He said it Uzi, not Usze, and it made 'Taham smile despite himself.

"I need to take care of you so we can sleep," he murmured into the younger warrior's earbud. "So show me how."

N'tho's trembling hand made an experimental circle on his belly. Usze let N'tho guide him, rubbing the young warrior in gentle circles, savouring the velvet skin under his touch. N'tho moaned and guided his hand lower, ever lower. Usze did not rush him; instead he savoured the moment, enjoyed exploring the other Sangheili, though part of him wondered what would happen when the inevitable goal was reached. What would he do? How would it feel?

And then they arrived.

When Usze's fingers touched him there, N'tho's head lolled back and a low sigh escaped his mouth.

N'tho scrabbled to kick off his battle suit, moaning all the while. Usze held his grip motionless until N'tho was still once more. Then he slowly, carefully began to explore with touch and scent and sound in the sightless dark.

Usze marvelled at what he felt and waited for N'tho's guidance. He did not know what the other male liked.

N'tho, as it turned out, liked it a lot rougher than Usze did. Usze tried to be gentle but N'tho kept urging him harder, faster, so quickly. Usze balked, wanting to take the time to stroke and pet, and it made N'tho stiffen and groan through clenched teeth. Finally Usze gave in, abandoning himself to the other warrior's desires.

N'tho was merciless, relentless, to a point where Usze wondered if it hurt—but then 'Sraom let out a strangled cry and suddenly it was over. N'tho released him; 'Taham withdrew his hand, not sure what to do with it. He settled for wiping it on the underside of the pillowcase. By the Rings, he was going to have to clean up this bed tomorrow before anyone else saw.

What had he done?

Usze shivered. Where was his control? He waited until he thought he could keep his voice steady before he spoke.

"We do not speak of this night to anyone."

N'tho's voice drifted out of the night. "Okay, sir." A pause as the rookie's breathing slowed. "Thank you."

Usze lay on his back, staring up into the darkness, trying to understand what he had done, and why.

N'tho's voice, sleep-slurred, sounded out of the black one last time.

"I promise…to hate you again…in the morning…"

And the other Elite rolled over, pressed his muzzle to Usze's neck, and wrapped his arm over Usze's chest. 'Taham froze. 'Sraom's battlesuit was still on the floor in a ball and N'tho apparently had no interest in retrieving it. Instead N'tho nuzzled him, purring quietly, and soon N'tho was snoring softly, oblivious to the world, his body perfectly relaxed and contented.

But Usze was still awake.

He could still smell the thick musk of warrior, alien and tempting, and a series of progressively more disturbing images would not stay out of his head. N'tho, helpless in his grip, mewling in pleasure. _Keeping_ N'tho in his bed, sinking his fangs into N'tho's neck, mounting 'Sraom like a female… Asking N'tho to mount him—no, he did not even dare think about that.

Then his thoughts shifted. Those pictures from the BattleNet. He imagined N'tho in Rycl 'Otsed's bed, on all fours. He thought about N'tho on his knees in chains before Shipmaster Epse 'Gamul. These images filled Usze with a throat-choking, gut-clenching combination of illness and rage. He didn't know why.

What he did know was that he was clutching N'tho possessively to his chest and he was now hard as iron, aching in a way he had never been for any female, and unlike N'tho he would not indulge in self-comfort.

Or, Forerunners forbid, wake up 'Sraom to return the favour. By the Rings, he'd rather die.

But a Perfect Warrior did not lie.

He wanted to.

It seemed like forever before oblivion and exhaustion finally overcame desire enough to claim him.


	6. Chapter 6: Commando's Invitation

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Sixth: Commando's Invitation**

Time Setting: Halo 3, level "The Ark"

TO: SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum

FROM: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

RE: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom / BattleNet / Potential Security Breach

Most revered Commander:

Have you seen this file on the BattleNet?

Be warned, it is graphically explicit.

(link attached)

I would recommend this file be removed as soon as possible.

While I thought you should be aware of 'Sraom's conduct, with all respect, I am more concerned by the fact that these images were taken using Sangheili security cameras. Whoever compiled this file was someone with access to Sangheili Fleet security footage. Furthermore, the details on the file are protected above my clearance, so I cannot determine who was responsible. If I do not have the rank to view that footage or read those file details, 'Sraom certainly does not. The idea of a superior officer engaging in such conduct disturbs me.

With faithful devotion,

Usze 'Taham

Blademaster

PS Fil Storamee is being completely unreasonable.

*

TO: Minor Domo N'tho 'Sraom

FROM: Chief Quartermaster Fil Storamy

RE: Blademaster Usze 'Taham

Nitro (great name):

I'll be happy to shove a gravity hammer up the Blademaster's ass for you.

Fil

*

N'tho 'Sraom hiked across the dusty platform of the Forerunner structure, clenching his carbine rifle, waiting for an inbound Phantom. The strange architecture and alien landscape were hauntingly barren, but Nitro didn't mind. He felt strangely at peace with himself.

It wasn't that long ago that he'd been on Earth, feeling frustrated and lonely, with no other Sangheili around other than the off-limits Arbiter and that miserable Blademaster. What had changed?

His thoughts flew back to the flight here aboard _Shadow of Intent_. That night in 'Taham's cabin. 'Taham's touch…so light, so hesitant. N'tho would trade a hundred cheap flings for another night with…

N'tho shook his head. He'd lost all sense of proportion.

When he'd woken up the morning after, Uzi had been gone, though the bedding still contained lingering whispers of the Blademaster's scent. Usze's pillow had been inexplicably missing; his armour and gear were gone as well. N'tho had untangled his jumpsuit, gathered his scattered armour, dressed, and reported to the Arbiter for duties. Since then, he'd had only occasional glances of Usze, who had been following the Master Chief like a shadow ever since.

Was Usze angry with him? Disgusted? Confused about what they'd done together?

…dare he think it, happy about what they'd done together?

Nitro didn't know, but for once he felt like thinking positively.

He felt a presence close in behind him, very near indeed. His hearts jumped, and he turned around, expecting to see Uzi, but instead, Zealot Aj 'Qorop was standing there, smirking at him.

'Qorop was a handsome figure in his golden armour, but Nitro knew that 'Qorop had some strange tastes in private, and and he was _rough. _Nitro had once thought it was worth dragging himself back to his bunk, limping, in return for a night in 'Qorop's lavish quarters, stuffing himself with rich food and fancy drinks. Right now, though, Nitro didn't feel that he needed to loaf around in a well-appointed room to feel good about himself, and he certainly didn't need Aj's attentions.

N'tho sidestepped and boarded the waiting Phantom. But Aj 'Qorop was right behind him.

"'Sraom," 'Qorop breathed against his neck, "perhaps we should go inspect the weapons bay…"

Inspect the weapons bay, his ass. Fuck in the weapons bay was more like it.

And Nitro, for the first time he could remember, just didn't feel like it, and wasn't in the mood to pretend. He'd rather be alone with his memories and fantasies right about now.

He could feel the Mark of Punishment burning on his shoulder, but he remembered what he had told Piro 'Kipaz before leaving the 812th. He was a SpecOps warrior, and more than that—he was one of the Arbiter's personal honour guards. He and Uzi. He was _not _the fleet's entertainment.

"I don't think that will be possible, sir."

Aj frowned. "Are you being insubordinate, Minor Domo?"

N'tho felt his mouth go dry. Aj might not be his commanding officer, but he still outranked him.

"No," N'tho replied, "I'm afraid I've got a prior engagement with…with the Blademaster," he continued, as his eye fell on the claret-armoured figure sitting alone in a nook in the corner of the Phantom's launch bay, wedged in between a weapons dispenser and a crate of grenades. "So you'll have to excuse me. Goodbye!" He turned his back on 'Qorop and bounded up to 'Taham as quickly as he could in the confined space of the Phantom. "Hey Uzi."

"What?" 'Taham sounded cranky, but that was nothing new.

"Erm…" N'tho looked at his feet, then forced himself to look Usze in the eye, or at least where his eyes would be under that assault helmet. Suddenly he was hit by a flash of inspiration, thanks to Aj's suggestive communication from days before. "SpecOps is having a post-mission party and inviting everyone who survives this encounter."

"Yes, I might have guessed."

"I, ah, I wanted you to know that you were invited."

Silence. Nitro wished that Uzi would get rid of that damned assault helmet, or at least only wear it into battle. It was impossible to guess what the other Sangheili was thinking without even facial clues to give a hint.

"Because," N'tho added, "because I never see you at those things, and I just wanted you to know that you were welcome to come."

Usze folded his arms. "Is this another one of your propositions?" he asked acidly.

N'tho dropped his gaze again. "No, sir, it's just an invitation. Who you proposition at the party is entirely up to you."

"And what makes you think I would have _any _interest in attending what is certain to degenerate into a drunken orgy to end all SpecOps parties?"

N'tho felt his temper spark at the rejection. "I just thought you'd want to feel appreciated. Pardon me. _Sir_."

_I'm never going to learn, am I? Usze 'Taham is far too good for the rest of us._

N'tho saluted, turned, and stalked away. Maybe he'd try to meet that SpecOps warrior, Ki 'Chaz, who'd sent him the invitation to the party. Or maybe he would take Aj up on his offer after all, because even Aj was better than Epse 'Gamul.

_Usze doesn't even like males. You are not going to be bending over his bunk at the end of this mission. You are not going to be bending over for him ever, because he doesn't want you. He doesn't even like you_. _He won't even come to a stupid party with you._

N'tho sighed.

He might as well go find Ki.

*

Usze squinted his eyes behind his helmet as he watched N'tho walk away.

Where was he off to? There weren't that many places to go in a Phantom.

Uzi's gaze fell, unbidden, to the sleek shape of Nitro's hindquarters in his battle jumpsuit. His thoughts leapt back to the night on _Shadow of Intent_ when he'd been pressed so closely up against the Spec Ops Minor Domo… Nitro looked very distracting indeed when he bent over to talk to another Spec Ops warrior and a red-armoured Major Domo, who were sitting against the side of the Phantom. What would it be like to…

The Blademaster shook his head. He couldn't afford those kind of distractions now. He shouldn't find that kind of thing distracting in the first place. What did he care about N'tho 'Sraom's ass? The only thing he cared about was making Nitro do his job.

But when Nitro's associates got to their feet and proceeded to lead Nitro down into the weapons bay, Usze felt a strange, tight, acidy sensation rise up and strangle him. What the hell were they doing?

He rose and pursued them, telling himself that he needed to ensure they were following proper in-flight procedure.

When he quietly opened the door of the weapons bay and saw the other two warriors clustered around Nitro—the blue one nipping his shoulder and the red one licking his neck—Usze 'Taham felt his gut clench and his fangs gnash at the sight of the scene in front of him.

He recognized the blue one now: Ki 'Chaz. He didn't know the Major Domo, but that bastard was positively _indecent _the way he was rubbing up against N'tho from behind. The fact that 'Sraom wasn't struggling to get away made Usze angrier still.

The Blademaster couldn't tolerate another second of it.

"'Sraom!" he bellowed.

All three Sangheili froze, caught in the act, and turned their heads as one.

'Chaz and the Major Domo's mandibles drooped open in dismay as Usze 'Taham strode towards them like a commander at the head of a battle host, his stride radiating authority and barely suppressed rage and righteous indignation. Nitro, on the other hand, seemed delighted to see him.

"Hi Uzi!" he said cheerily.

"What," 'Taham demanded, "in all the Ancestors' holy names is going on here?"

"Nothing that unusual," the Major Domo replied, slightly belligerently.

"Oh, it's standard procedure for warriors in your unit to neglect their duties in favour of rutting like beasts in heat—like Brutes, who do not have the self-mastery to control their desires, but instead, are slaves to them?"

The Major Domo backed down, suitably cowed by the vitriol in 'Taham's voice. "We weren't actually rutting," he said quietly.

"We were just playing," Ki 'Chaz whined. "We're on a ship. We won't be fighting until we land, and we've got nothing to do."

"Nothing to do?" Usze repeated sardonically. "You should be checking your weapons and armour, and clearing your minds for the battle ahead—not stirring yourself up to mate! Unless you want the Brutes to think you've come to mate with them," he added, staring pointedly at the two warriors' crotches.

Nitro, he noticed suddenly, did not appear aroused by all the attention.

"Sorry, sir," the blue armoured Elite said, head bowed.

"It will never happen again," the red soldier added.

"It had better not." He grabbed Nitro by the shoulder. "You two get out of here," Usze snapped, gesturing to the back of the Phantom. "'Sraom and I are going to have a discussion in the cockpit."

Usze hauled Nitro through the cockpit door. He kicked it closed behind him and muscled N'tho up against the wall at the rear of the cockpit. The pilot and copilot looked back over their shoulders; Usze nodded, and the two flyers returned their attention to their instruments.

N'tho still looked much too happy for someone who was being pinned against a bulkhead by a displeased superior officer.

"Look," Usze growled, "I'm not going to this…this SpecOps party if I haven't got anyone to talk to. I am _not _going to stand alone in the corner all night, am I clear?"

Nitro smiled. "You're going after all?"

"I'm making up my mind," Usze hissed, his voice low, almost threatening. "And another thing I will not tolerate is an evening of sexual advances from complete strangers. So, if I _do _attend, it will have to be _with _someone. And as it turns out, there is someone _right here _who owes me a few favours. Of the non-sexual variety," he hastened to add. "Isn't that right, Nitro?"

Usze realized, too late, that he had called the other Sangheili Nitro, not N'tho.

'Sraom got a big giddy grin on his face. "So you want to take me to the party, hm? And keep me all to yourself?"

"That means no mating with Ki 'Chaz, or anyone else for that matter." He jabbed his finger into Usze's chest. "And no drunken shenanigans." Jab. "And I will not tolerate inappopriate come-ons, either." Jab again.

N'tho's grin was not fading. "I promise to leave all the sexual advances up to you, sir." He put his hands on Uzi's chest.

Usze felt a sudden dismay; this wasn't working out at all the way he had intended. He thought that N'tho would break at the prospect of having to behave himself while all the other SpecOps warriors reveled in whatever debauchery took their fancy. He thought that N'tho would apologize for his sluttish behaviour, only to beg for the freedom to indulge it at the party. Instead, Nitro seemed almost pleased at the prospect of keeping Uzi company all night.

"And if there _aren't_ any?" Usze retorted, because the last thing he needed was for 'Sraom to expect that Usze intended to mate with him at any point in the evening. That denial would make 'Sraom whine, for sure.

"Well," N'tho replied quietly, "you looked after me at Crow's Nest, and again on _Shadow of Intent_. I figure I owe you—twice—and one party without me getting any…" He shrugged. "I'm still getting off easy, compared to what would have happened without you around."

N'tho, quiet. N'tho, serious. Usze could hardly believe it. There was a whole other side to the SpecOps warrior that almost no one ever saw.

Another voice cut through Usze's thoughts.

_Usze without an excuse not to attend this foolish party now._

Condemnation! He had said those things in an attempt to rile N'tho up and to shame him for his outrageous behaviour. Instead, he'd walked himself into his own trap. Now he had to go to this ridiculous debacle, and he hadn't the slightest idea what to do in a relaxed social setting. He was going to make a complete ass of himself, in front of every warrior here at the Ark. He would never get their respect again…

Usze took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He'd have Nitro with him, wouldn't he? He'd be able to spend the evening with the SpecOps warrior. Nitro was a gregarious type. Nitro would do the talking and all Usze had to do was stand at his side. And if Nitro didn't behave—that would be the perfect excuse for Usze to make his exit, hauling N'tho behind him.

_But if you and Nitro duck out too early, everyone there is going to think you're mating with him._

Would that be such a bad thing? It wasn't as though enough _other _people hadn't sampled N'tho 'Sraom….

And there was that angry, sour roiling in his gut again. What _was _that?

It was pushed down by a dawning self-awareness. _By the Rings, Usze, you set this trap for yourself all along. Because you _wanted _to be caught, didn't you?_

"Do you really want to know why I do it?" N'tho whispered.

"Why you do what?" Usze had to lean in very close to hear.

"Back on Earth you asked me why I was a slut. I didn't want to tell you. But since you saw on _Shadow of Intent_ anyway…" Nitro took Uzi's hand in his own and guided it to his opposite shoulder. "You remember what's here, right?"

"The…brand," Usze said, not wishing to speak the words aloud.

"It's hard to worry about shame when you're shamed to begin with," Nitro confessed. "I take what comfort I can when I can get it, and I have a lot of trouble saying no."

Usze cleared his throat. "Trouble because…."

"Maybe I like it!" Nitro snapped angrily. "What if I do?"

"Do you really?" Usze asked softly.

Nitro visibly deflated. "I like it when they're good to me," he whispered. "For a little while, I feel good. For a little while, I feel like I belong."

A pause. A long, long pause.

"What does it feel like?"

Nitro startled. "What, sex?"

"To belong."

'Sraom licked his mandibles. "I wish you didn't wear that helmet."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Uzi said irritably.

"Then I could tell if you were making fun of me with that question."

Usze's hands were suddenly gripping Nitro's. "I'm not making fun of you." No, he didn't dare take his helmet off, but hopefully his gentle squeeze on Nitro's hands would convince the other Sangheili of his sincerity.

N'tho paused, clearly thinking about it. "How does it feel? It feels…good. Comforting. Like going home again."

Usze nodded. "Perhaps you should do that instead. On your next leave. Go home."

N'tho's eyes darkened. "I hope you're not mocking me. Sir."

"Nitro?"

"That's why I have that mark, Blademaster. The curse on the house of 'Sraom. My maternal grandfather was a Shipmaster. He fled from a battle, got two other ships killed. His entire line was put to death, except for me. I'd just graduated from War College, near the top of my class. I was supposed to be thankful that I escaped as an honourless wretch with a Mark of Punishment branded into my hide for a sin I'd never committed. Grateful for the opportunity to be cannon fodder. Well, here I am, sir, a SpecOps soldier, the Arbiter's honour guard, and if the only comfort I have is fucking half the fleet, is that so wrong, _sir_?"

"Yes!"

Usze didn't know how to express his sudden feeling of vehemence, or the urge to pull Nitro hard against him and not let him go. He managed to snap, "Someday someone's going to come along who'd be good to you all the time. If you're smart, you won't drive him away by being a slut."

Nitro looked at him. Intently. It gave his hide a strange tingling sensation. He didn't know why. It would be a good thing for Nitro to settle down with a devoted bondmate, someone who would care for him, keep him secure, give him a home…

…but imagining Nitro with this ideal partner gave Usze that strange acidy clenched stomach feeling again. Why did the idea of Nitro happily settled down with a loving mate produce such a similar response as the idea of Nitro at the mercy of sexual predators like 'Gamul?

The only thing that could make the feeling go away was to think instead about what might happen if he _did _pull N'tho out of the SpecOps party early. What would happen, if the two of them were alone together again?

_Nitro…Shadow of Intent…you owe me._

_My turn now._

He could offer to share his bunk again in case 'Gamul came along. In the dark he could put his hand on Nitro's, and show the SpecOps warrior how to touch lightly, how to tease, how to stroke another male long and slow…just how Uzse liked it…

_My turn…_

"Two minutes to landing!" the copilot called over the intercom, and Usze cursed under his breath, because he was about to go into battle. He had not adjusted his armour, he had not checked his weapons, his thoughts were in disarray, and his shaft was becoming uncomfortably hard. He turned away before Nitro could notice, grumbling something about loading his carbine.

If he died in this battle to come…perhaps…just perhaps…he might be missed by someone.

_And what else might he miss out on?_

It was the best incentive he had yet to make sure he didn't die.


	7. Chapter 7: Blademaster's Game

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Seventh: Blademaster's Game**

Time Setting: Halo 3, level "The Covenant"

Usze 'Taham stripped off his helmet, armour and his jumpsuit, piling them against the rocks. He closed his eyes against the unfamiliar sensations of wind on his face and sun in his eyes. The scent of trees and moss tickled his nostrils. Were he not so weary, he would never have guessed that this forest paradise was soon to become the scene of another brutal conflict.

It had been a long, dusty battle across the surface of the Ark. Soon the combined Human/Elite forces would go into battle to take the three towers; some of the Elites had already begun to fight. The Arbiter had given Usze two hours' rest before he returned to battle. He'd had an hour's nap, then eaten, and now he intended to clean himself in the clear waters of the mountain stream before re-arming himself for battle.

He stepped into the stream. The water was hip-deep, cool and crisp. There was a little pool here with submerged rocks, just perfect for him to sit on. He lowered his muzzle, drinking deeply, and then began to wash.

Down the stream, he could see the distant figures of other Sangheili doing the same. Usze had to admit that there was a comfort to be found in fighting alongside others of his kind. It wasn't just the fact that the silhouette of a Sangheili soldier in full battle harness was instinctively familiar, whereas there were moments when he would see a troop of Helljumpers or a Scorpion tank, and his breath would catch before memory kicked in to remind him that Humans were no longer his enemies. No, it was more than that. He understood the Sangheili codes of conduct, and he knew how others of his species would react to his words and actions. Humans were enigmas, laughing at completely inappropriate moments, sometimes offended over nothing and yet other times oblivious to the most foul insults.

And yet 'Taham was also developing a terrible suspicion that there was a certain _distance_ between himself and others of his kind that was not common to the average Sangheili. He noticed the way the young warriors jostled one another, wrestling and laughing. He saw how in the quiet moments, one Sangheili would place his hand on the wrist of his battle brother, and no words would need to be spoken to convey comfort, understanding and support.

But no one ever touched Usze 'Taham.

He had thought only parents and children, or lovers, touched one another. He had thought that laughter was a private thing that one ought to hide away, and he had scorned those who showed any emotion in public. He had even looked askance at other Ascetics who permitted their poise to crack.

Now, though, he realized that his haughty veneer had served only to separate him from his battle brothers. He would not be mourned, or grieved, should he fall. At one time, he would have wanted only an honourable death; now it was no longer enough. He wanted to have done more with his life than serve only as a vessel for a greater idea. He wanted to be valued for who he was.

But nobody knew who Usze 'Taham really was.

He doubted he knew himself.

*

N'tho 'Sraom peered through the bushes and narrowed his eyes.

He hadn't recognized the other Sangheili at first glance. He'd paused for a better look anyway; the warrior had an attractively muscled physique, and there was never any harm in admiring the view, was there? The bather was not particularly tall, but he was _very _nicely proportioned and he moved with a sinuous grace that triggered something in N'tho's memories—something that made N'tho's imagination shift into overdrive and head for X-rated territory at lightspeed.

Then the other Sangheili had stretched his arms over his head and N'tho had seen a pair of deep, ugly slashes across his lower abdomen.

N'tho's thoughts had immediately flashed from sexual fantasy to actual memory. Nitro's fingers trailing their way down Usze 'Taham's chest in the dark of Uzi's quarters, tracing the soft skin of the Blademaster's belly—and suddenly rising over a pair of thick ridges. N'tho had wondered what they were. He'd leaned over to ask Usze if he wished to get rid of his jumpsuit, and at the same time Nitro's hand had been tracing that area, discovering that the raised, tough hide formed two very long lines, exploring…

Then Usze had pushed him away.

N'tho could guess that what he had felt had been two huge scars, exactly like those on the bather before him—and in just that same location.

What had given Uzi those wounds?

_Was_ that Uzi? Uzi without his helmet on? N'tho suddenly felt uncertain.

No way could he pass up another chance to get with Usze. Not after _Shadow of Intent. _But Usze never took off his helmet. What if that were someone else?

By the Rings, he was an exotic-looking specimen. His hide was an unusual blue-grey, his fingers were tipped with retractible claws, and his eyes—one eye was warm orange, the other emerald green. His features weren't classically beautiful, but he was just so striking to look at…and the way he moved…

Well, it wasn't as though Nitro had a bondmate, or even a regular consort. Why shouldn't he approach this other Sangheili? What did it matter if it was, or wasn't Uzi? He was lonely, and…

N'tho sighed. That was a lie.

If he just wanted sex, he could go find Ki 'Chaz, or the Major Domo from the Phantom whose name he didn't know. Sex was easy to get, especially in SpecOps.

_And if that's Uzi, you're more likely to get told off than you are to get laid._

Going to find Ki would be the smarter choice.

N'tho circled through the bushes anyway, slipping into the water further upstream.

*

Usze found himself sinking into a morose mood, and slumped to a seat on one of the underwater rocks.

He was suddenly hauled from his brooding solitude by the sound of splashing and a voice that was too loud, too energetic, intrusive…

…and wonderful.

"Hey there. Room for two?"

N'tho 'Sraom surfaced before him, glistening with moisture all over his hide, not wearing any of his clothing at all. Usze felt his eyes widen. The water distorted N'tho's submerged lower body enough to hide the details of his form, and Usze was actually regretful. Why couldn't the water come to mid-thigh instead of mid-hip?

_What was he thinking?_

N'tho did not wait for an invitation. He seated himself on the other side of the submerged rock, too far away to touch, but close enough for the slight scent of warrior to tease its way through the forest aromas of earth and trees. Usze remembered how it had felt to sleep pressed up to N'tho, and he found himself wishing to all the Ancestors that this rock could have been just a little smaller.

'Sraom was looking him up and down. "Have I seen you before?" the Minor Domo asked.

By the Rings. N'tho must not recognize him. N'tho had only ever seen him in his helmet, and his telltale claret armour was not visible from here.

"I fought with the 895th," Usze replied with a smile. It was not entirely a lie; he _had _been attached to that unit, right out of War College. The fact that the 895th was here fighting on the Ark was just a happy coincidence.

"Nice to meet you," Nitro replied, studying him with an intensity both nerve-racking and flattering. "I'm N'tho 'Sraom, SpecOps Minor Domo, but…" He grinned. "The Humans call me Nitro."

"'Sumai," Usze replied, giving his biological father's surname.

The Perfect Warrior did not tell falsehoods. The Perfect Warrior did not check out subordinates, either. Uzi felt like a spectator in his own body, out of control, drawn on by impulses he did not understand.

"You've still got some dirt on you," N'tho said abruptly.

Usze blinked, confused.

"Here," Nitro murmured, shifting with a speed remarkable for his size—he really was an impressive warrior—to a position behind Usze. 'Taham, still not quite sure what was happening, startled when he felt a splash of cold water on the back of his neck and a pair of hands rubbing him vigorously.

"My, you're tense," Nitro's voice purred in his earbud. "Long battle?"

"Yes," Usze choked out. His brain was screaming alarms at someone handling that vulnerable sweet spot on the back of his neck. Unfortunately, his body wasn't listening to those alarms. His body was insisting that this felt great, and that the smartest thing to do was to stretch himself out and savor the sensations. N'tho was purring in his earbud while the SpecOps soldier's nimble fingers ran the gamut from delicious scratches in those hard-to-reach places to soft, soothing strokes…

"Don't you sound happy," N'tho whispered in the other earbud.

Uzi realized, to his shock and horror, that the loud purring wasn't Nitro's. It was his own.

Nitro sat beside him again, very close now—their thighs touched under water—and his hands crept up over Usze's shoulder, threatening to massage his chest if he didn't say something.

Uzi closed his eyes and raised his own hands to N'tho's shoulders. Uncertain what to do, Usze began to mirror N'tho's actions, doing what the other Sangheili did, touching Nitro the same way Nitro touched him, grinning when he found that he could lead Nitro to certain spots by moving his own hands to that place on his partner. It was like a game. He opened his eye a crack and saw Nitro smiling.

The other Sangheili slid into his lap, and Uzi realized with a shock that he was supposed to be pretending to be a stranger. And that as far as Nitro knew, he was a stranger. Did Nitro do this to everyone?

Did it feel this good to everyone?

"Friendly, aren't you?" Usze murmured, trying to ignore that clenching in his guts, that angry, possessive, defensive voice insisting that Nitro absolutely should not be fooling around with anyone…other than perhaps Usze himself.

Nitro looked at him with an expression of questioning concern, as if afraid that Uzi might be disgusted with him. Usze realized that he probably ought to be disgusted by the fact that Nitro was climbing into the lap of a warrior he didn't even know, but as he breathed in that tempting scent that Nitro seemed to carry around on his skin, Usze realized any of his moral qualms were secondary to the fact that he really, really wanted Nitro in his lap. And the SpecOps commando looked so cute as he asked, "Why? Do you think this is…" N'tho rubbed against him. "Slutty?"

Usze's mandibles clicked. Getting this intimate with someone you'd only just met _was_ kind of slutty by Ascetic standards—on the other hand, it was common for many Sangheili warriors to offer intimate comfort to their battle brothers. There was no shame to be found in consensual give-and-take between unattached warriors. _Slutty_ only applied to those who would degrade themselves; for example, those who tried to use sex to gain the approval of superiors, or those who debased themselves to beg for sexual attention, or those who engaged in perversions…

…_like mating three warriors at once?_

Usze did not want to think about that. "That depends," Usze murmured. "Are you always this generous with strangers?"

N'tho pulled away. He _did _look ashamed.

Then he took Usze's hand in his and placed it over the Mark of Punishment on his shoulder. "Do you feel that?" he murmured.

Usze let his fingers trace the outline of the brand.

N'tho bowed his head to Usze's earbud and whispered, "I have no right to refuse you whatever you ask of me."

'Taham felt his guts clench and chill. "Do you mean to tell me…" He sucked in a breath, failing to keep the rage he was feeling out of his voice. "…that brand means you need to give…_favors_…to anyone who might ask?" Suddenly he didn't want to play any more. He wanted to wrap his arms around N'tho and protect him. Defend him.

N'tho exhaled, looking down at the water. "Not explicitly…I mean, it isn't law or anything. But…" His eyes closed in a long wince. "No matter what position I hold or what rank I wear, I am always a lesser being than any without the brand, and I know my place."

"So you feel a pressure to comply." Uzi couldn't resist temptation any longer; he tugged the other Sangheili closer to him.

N'tho's cheeks purpled as he said, "I will confess to liking attention…and the affections of those who are at least somewhat appreciative."

"Not those who ruthlessly take," Uzi summarized as he put his arms defensively around the other warrior's waist.

N'tho winced again and let out a small noise, as if struck. It made Usze feel guilty even as he also felt relieved that N'tho did not enjoy the twisted interests of Epse 'Gamul and his ilk. He tightened his hold in a hug. "And how about those who only wish to give?" Usze murmured in Nitro's earbud.

N'tho shook his head. "I don't…"

"Hush now," Usze said quietly and begain to stroke his companion.

Usze hoped that he could adapt the kind of caresses enjoyed by a female to a fellow male. It seemed to be working as N'tho nuzzled in close to him and started to purr intermittantly.

Uzi gently guided Nitro's head down onto his shoulder and intensified his touch, licking Nitro's cheek as he did so. Nitro's hesitant sounds became a full, loud, deep rumble, and Usze's mandibles broke into a grin. He finally moved his hands up to N'tho's head and drew it back enough to see the other Sangheili beaming with pleasure, his eyes closed. Then Nitro blinked and his blissful expression was replaced by a questioning look.

By the Rings, what was Usze to do? He couldn't mate with another warrior, not here, not when they were on the verge of battle, when there were other Sangheili about, when there might be Brutes in the woods…when he had no idea how to mount a male…

…_when Nitro doesn't even know who you really are._

Usze froze.

And N'tho took over.

'Sraom's hands slid off Usze's shoulders and began to touch again, exploring every inch of him: his chest, his ribcage, his belly…

"That's quite the scars you've got there," N'tho murmured, his hand gently tracing the two long gashes over Usze's abdomen under the surface of the water.

Usze winced. "Don't touch that."

N'tho pulled his hand away immediately, but peered into Usze's face. "Why not? Does it hurt?"

"No." He swallowed hard. "It shames me."

N'tho's face took on a silly grin that made Usze's hearts spark with anger. How dare he mock the Blademaster? How _dare he…_

N'tho grabbed Usze's wrist in his left hand and slapped Usze's hand over his right shoulder. "Mark of Punishment, remember? I've got you beat in the shame department."

Usze sighed, feeling his anger flee. Nitro was right. A Mark of Punishment was definitely worse than combat scars.

"It was an attempted assassination," he said quietly, "by someone I had considered a mentor and friend."

Usze had barely thought about that incident in years, but now that he spoke of it, he began to wonder. His old mentor had been his closest friend beyond blood relatives. Since the betrayal and his mentor's death, Usze had kept everyone save his family at arm's length. Perhaps this was where he had first learned the cool demeanor that had brought him to the notice of the Aescetics.

Perhaps this was where he had begun to forget how to allow others close to him.

Now N'tho was running one hand over those scars, stroking the fine skin in between the two gashes, while his other hand gripped Usze's and squeezed.

By the Rings, he didn't need 'Sraom's pity. He was an Ascetic, an aristocrat, the son of a hero…

…damn it, the touch felt good.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" N'tho whispered.

Usze felt another strange impulse rising in him. "Yes."

Nitro blinked. "Yes, what?"

Uzi couldn't stop the grin from crossing his face. "If you ask me, I'll tell you."

'Sraom laughed. "Okay, jackass. Why?"

Usze snickered too, nuzzled his companion. Then he gripped N'tho's hand as he grew serious. "I've been offered, several times, a position on the Lights of Sanghelios honour guard. Every time I've declined."

N'tho blinked. "Declined? Why? That's a pretty big honour."

"Yes, a great honour to stand around like an idiot watching the Prophets all day. How useless is that? The role of a warrior is to fight, not to hold a ceremonial spear and look decorative. I believe I belong in combat, serving my people." He hung his head. "My mentor said that my defiance was heresy and drew blade on me."

"Did you kill him?"

Usze nodded. "Yes, and I almost died myself."

"But you declined again."

"Yes. And the second time I was waiting for the assassins with a loaded carbine."

Nitro suddenly started to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Usze demanded, feeling surly, but also experiencing a sense of curiousity. Perhaps N'tho wasn't trying to be obnoxious. Maybe this was another joke.

N'tho leaned over and whispered into Usze's earbud. "I think you're a bad influence."

The SpecOps warrior was still laughing as Usze thought this statement through. The most intelligent response he could muster was "What?"

"My reputation may not be the best, but at least nobody's ever tried to assassinate me. If I hang around with you , are you going to rub off on me…teach me to refuse orders, until I wind up with hired killers after me?" Nitro gave him a silly grin.

Usze found himself smiling despite himself. "I don't know. Are you going to teach me some bad habits in return?"

"I'll do my best," the other warrior replied slyly, returning both his hands to Usze, stroking him under the water, moving his hands over his comrade's outer since he'd already agreed to attend that SpecOps party… oh, by the Ancestors, what was wrong with him? Why did he feel like iron drawn to a magnet? Why was he, an Ascetic, all snuggled up with a shamed creature bearing a Mark of Punishment, and why could he not get enough?

Uzi stroked the other Sangheili's lower mandibles until Nitro sighed and purred. "I'm rather surprised you don't have anyone laying claim to you," the Blademaster whispered as he ran a finger over those broad muscles. He couldn't resist using both hands to knead them and guess at the power they contained.

'Taham was shocked at his own daring. It was not like him; the Blademaster would not, in a thousand ages, risk saying these things, lest his companion jeer at him, or tell everyone that Usze 'Taham had a weakness. But in this guise as a soldier from the house of 'Sumai, he could speak his inner mind without fear. The role he was playing would vanish when he left this place; the warrior from 'Sumai would disappear like dust in the wind, and take any shame with him.

Nitro drew in a long, shuddering breath. "There is someone I like," he admitted.

"Like as in, want to play with? Like me?" Usze teased, licking Nitro's neck.

"Like as in want to _stay_ with."

Usze felt his insides grow cold. An irrational spike of anger drew a red veil across his vision. Any consolation that Nitro's desires could extend beyond one night stands was burned away by an all-consuming jealousy.

"Who?" he demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"It's a secret," Nitro murmured. "Promise not to tell?"

Guilt washed away Usze's rage. A secret… He was here, under false pretenses, coaxing Nitro into his arms. What had Nitro said on _Shadow of Intent_? _I promise to hate you in the morning_. Nitro had been in his bed only as a last resort; his overtures had been born of gratitude, not desire, and what had happened between them in the dark…surely any warm body would have coaxed that reaction from 'Sraom.

Nitro drew away from him. "Promise?" he repeated.

Usze nodded, because if he dropped this pretense now, Nitro would storm away from him…

Nitro curled up against him and rested his cheek on Usze's shoulder. "I like someone who doesn't like me much. Someone I'm never going to get, not in this life or the next. Someone who can do much better than a shamed warrior…but…" He swallowed hard. "He's good to me…"

And yet Nitro was snuggling with _him_. Usze didn't like being the second-best choice. "I promise not to tell," he said, his voice a low growl. "I want a name."

Name, because whoever it was, Usze was going to rake him over the coals. He didn't care if it wasn't fair. He was in for the fight of his life not to just slice the bastard apart.

Nitro was leaning closer, his mandibles starting to form an answer when a shouted voice broke the spell between them like a thunderclap. "Hey, N'tho!"

And yet Uzi was almost certain he had heard Nitro whisper "The Blademaster."

Usze's head jerked around and he saw a golden-armoured Elite standing just on the edge of the trees several meters downstream, waving at Nitro. As he watched, two other Sangheili stepped out of the treeline—the duo from the Phantom.

Usze startled, stiffening, instinctively flinching away from Nitro despite the fact that he had been enjoying himself very much. He regretted it instantly and knew what would happen next: Nitro would cringe, then call him a dickweed again.

Instead, N'tho stood frozen, watching the trio lock eyes with him and then start heading his way; then Nitro's hand tightened around 'Taham's wrist, so hard it hurt. Usze couldn't help turning his attention from the three warriors to Nitro.

N'tho was staring at him, eyes wide and pleading. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper.

"Uzi. Help me."

_Uzi._

By the Rings. N'tho had figured out who he was.

By the Ancestors!N'tho had known who he was and they had been doing those things anyway…the touching…the stroking…

The three Elites came trotting up the bank of the river.

"Hey, is there room for a few more?" the red-armoured Major Domo asked.

Usze growled, leaning forward. "Get your own pool. We're busy."

"Hey now," Ki 'Chaz protested. "'Sraom is Spec Ops property. If you want one of our soldiers, you have to share him."

"Wait your turn," the golden Zealot—Aj 'Qorop—growled. "Me first."

Usze pressed his mandibles together as a sudden red haze fell across his vision. His hearts pumped out a fatal tempo as his vision tunnelled and the trio sprang into sharp relief. Blademaster 'Taham rose up out of the pool and drew himself up to his full height. By the Ancestors, he wished he were taller—but he was tall enough to cut these three arrogant fools down to size.

"If N'tho 'Sraom belongs to anyone, then he is Sangheili Military property. And by the mandate of the Sangheili Military, it is my duty to evaluate him on his fitness to serve." He cast his eye over the group. "Since you are all so eager to join us… Once these missions are finished, you three are all next in line for your Swordsman evaluations, right after 'Sraom."

"Blademaster 'Taham?" Ki 'Chaz squeaked.

"Indeed."

The trio exchanged nervous glances.

"We're sorry, Blademaster," 'Qorop said. "We…must have misunderstood… what you were doing here…"

"Evidently," 'Taham said dryly. Part of him was amazed that he had been caught publically nuzzling with N'tho and was about to get away with it…

…the other part of him could think of nothing more than how annoyed and frustrated he was for the interruption. The tiny part of him that was relieved to not have to find out just how far he would have been willing to let N'tho go was drowned out by his body's displeasure at the sudden denial of N'tho's touch.

"I suggest you three begin your practice now. As for you, 'Sraom, if you follow that advice I gave you, you will become a true master of the blade. Congratulations." He clasped Nitro's upper shoulder with his hand; Nitro, playing along, returned the gesture in the traditional Sangheili battle-brother salute.

As the trio walked away, heads hanging, Usze suddenly felt a brushing against his submerged left hip. N'tho's hand. 'Sraom was looking at him questioningly.

"You knew it was me all along, didn't you?" Usze hissed.

N'tho's voice was thick. "I guessed…I hoped…."

Usze leaned close and whispered in Nitro's earbud, "You've got a lot of explaining to do, 'Sraom…later…" He put his hand on Nitro's thigh, closed his eyes…

"'Sraom!" Another voice came echoing through the trees. The Arbiter. "'Taham!"

Usze looked up at the sun and swore.

"What?" N'tho asked.

"Coming, sir!" Usze called. Then he turned to Nitro, "We lost track of time. The assault is going to begin any moment!"

"Shit," N'tho whispered, his eyes shimmering. "Shit…"

And Usze, once again, did something stupid and impulsive.

"After," he said, grasping N'tho's hand. "Find me after. We'll…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"How about I just follow you through the whole battle?"

Usze swallowed. "Yes. That would be…acceptable."

"Acceptable?" 'Sraom repeated nervously.

Damn it!

Uzi leaned in close. "_Acceptable_ is Aescetic talk for _I would like nothing more_."

Nitro grinned.


	8. Chapter 8: Survivor's Homecoming

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Eighth: Survivor's Homecoming**

Time Setting: after the last level of Halo 3

They had fought for what felt like days, and fate had now delivered them to this end.

The Ring was firing. It wasn't yet completely built, and it was already firing.

The act would tear the Ring apart.

The Master Chief, the Arbiter, N'tho 'Sraom, and Usze 'Taham needed to be gone before it ignited.

The Arbiter and the Master Chief piled into a Warthog. Nithro grabbed a Mongoose and sped towards _Forward Unto Dawn_ in a cloud of dust. Usze was left with the choice between a Mongoose and a Brute Chopper.

Usze had piloted a Chopper several times during the recent campaign, but he had never driven a Mongoose. As the ringworld began to come apart, Usze decided that now was not the time to learn. He jumped into the nearest Chopper and accelerated in the direction N'tho had gone.

At first the Chopper seemed like a good choice. As the surface of the ringworld lurched ahead of him, the Chopper's massive blades simply plowed through any obstacles in its path. They did a particularly fine job in chewing up and spitting out Flood.

But then the ringworld's surface bucked beneath Usze's Chopper, throwing it up into the air. The unwieldy vehicle landed crosswise and skidded, and one of the blades hooked on something…Usze did not see what. Suddenly the vehicle was spinning wildly; Usze 'Taham lost his balance and toppled off.

Usze ached all over, but when he saw the Chopper spiralling off a platform down into a burning pit of lava, he felt suddenly lucky.

Unfortunately, the feeling did not last. He dragged himself to his feet, but he was limping. His left leg just would not move properly. The ground ripped again under him.

Without his Chopper, there was no way he could catch up to the others. They would board_ Forward Unto Dawn_—maybe, if they made it in time—and leave him behind.

It was not the best way for a warrior to die.

Far ahead, Usze saw N'tho look back over his shoulder and realize his companion was no longer behind him.

"Go!" Usze yelled, making a "carry on" motion with his arm in case his words were lost in the roar of the collapsing surface. "Get out of here—go!"

Several yards away, a Warthog cannoned past. Master Chief and the Arbiter.

They either didn't see him, or they knew they dared not stop for him. Usze did not blame them. He was beyond saving, now.

He wished only that he'd had the chance to finish what he'd started with N'tho on the Ark.

But Nitro had turned his Mongoose around.

"What are you doing?" Usze scowled. "I said leave!" He staggered to his feet—was it possible N'tho hadn't seen his signal? He made the motion again and again, but Nitro ignored him, pulling the Mongoose up alongside him.

"Get on."

"You crazy, disobedient son of a…"

N'tho outright grabbed him, hauling him onto the back of the Mongoose.

"Hold on tight," the Minor Domo ordered, and then opened the throttle.

Usze tightened his grip, clinging half to N'tho, half to the Mongoose…what did one grab onto? There were no handles, no bars. He finally managed to get himself in the seat and settled for hanging onto N'tho, wrapping both his arms around the other warrior's chest.

He had no weapons. He'd lost the shotgun and his sword. He couldn't do anything about the shuffling Flood forms he saw.

All he could do was put his head against N'tho's back and close his eyes and hang on.

They were going to die. N'tho was going to die because he did the stupid thing, because he came back for a stricken warrior. Usze would go to his grave feeling guilt and shame…

…and the knowledge that even at this terrible and most inappropriate time, N'tho's body felt so good against his.

The Mongoose jolted, hard. Usze opened his eyes.

The platform crumbled away beneath them.

_This is it_, Usze thought.

And then the Mongoose's wheels slammed onto metal. By the Rings, they were in the cargo bay of _Forward Unto Dawn_.

"Holy shit, we're alive!" N'tho said. "Arbiter! Cortana! Go! GO!"

They were alive.

By the Ancestors, they were _alive_.

Usze 'Taham couldn't stop shaking as he climbed off the Mongoose and sank to his knees. Beside him, N'tho was looking none too sturdy himself.

No matter how much N'tho had annoyed him in the past, Usze believed in giving credit where credit was due. "That was some impressive driving," Usze said, cursing the tremor in his voice.

N'tho looked at him. "Thanks." His breath whistled in and out of his chest. "You say you hate human weapons, but you are a damn good shot with that shotgun."

The two Sangheili sat in silence and then…

…then the back wall of the room was _cut off_, like a cleaver going through butter. It just vanished.

N'tho screamed. His usual laughter in the face of death was gone. Now he was just screaming, his eyes wild, his mandibles gaping wider than they ever should, _screaming…_

Thanking the Ancestors for his airtight helmet, Usze sprang to his feet, ignoring the fire in his wounded leg. He grabbed N'tho by the arm and dragged the other Sangheili across the room and through the bulkhead, then slammed the panel behind him to close the bulkhead door. The door sealed, trapping oxygen in the room with them. N'tho gasped for air; Usze opened a comm link to the Arbiter as he continued to pull N'tho towards the next bulkhead.

"Arbiter, request situation report!" Usze barked, cursing the tremor in his voice. "Sir, what's happening?"

"The Slipspace portal collapsed…we've lost the rear of the ship!" The Arbiter's voice sounded as shaky as his.

"Taham and 'Sraom are fine," he reported, looking N'tho over just to make sure. N'tho had finally stopped screaming, though his body was twitching uncontrollably. The SpecOps rookie looked about as rough as Usze felt, but he seemed to be intact.

"Confirmed," the Arbiter said. "Master Chief, report in."

Silence.

"Chief, report."

More silence.

"Cortana?"

"Sir?" Usze asked when it became clear that Cortana was not answering either. "Do you need some help?"

The Arbiter's voice returned on the channel, sounding broken. "They were in the rear of the ship. We can't go back for them—they were in the portal when it collapsed. There's no telling where they might be." He could hear the grim tone in the Arbiter's voice as he continued, "And this ship is on the verge of structural collapse. We may not make it to Earth. We are going to get as close to Earth as we can before we revert to realspace. We would certainly not survive turning around and going back through Slipspace."

Usze suspected that if the Arbiter was alone, he might have tried anyway. He ws on the verge of telling the Arbiter that he and N'tho didn't mind, that they were willing to take the gamble. But Usze realized that even though he outranked N'tho, it didn't give him the right to toss away the Minor Domo's life. That was N'tho's choice to make, not his.

And he also realized that the Arbiter had his own reason for wanting to survive. Rtas 'Vadumee. And the whole population of Sanghelios who, after the Prophets' betrayal, would be counting on the Arbiter to lead them forward.

No. They could not go back.

Reality seemed to bend and flex around them as the ship—or what was left of it—decanted to realspace.

"I'm transmitting coordinates to the Humans," the Arbiter said. "Maybe they can find the Chief and Cortana. We, on the other hand, are going nowhere but down."

"Do you need help?" Usze repeated.

"No. I want you and N'tho to brace yourselves…and pray to the Ancestors that we all survive."

"Understood." Usze rummaged around, found some cargo straps, and threaded them through the stringers of the bulkhead in an impromptu seatbelt. He sat down, pushing his back against the side of the ship.

N'tho was still standing there, shaking.

"Get over here," Usze snapped, but it was only when he patted the space beside him that N'tho sat, practically in his lap.

To hell with it. Usze did up the straps around the both of them, hoping they would hold. N'tho wriggled, grabbing on to him.

They fell like demons from the heavens.

The universe turned over and over, spiralling like a helix, corkscrewing, flipping inside-out. Usze realized he was clinging to N'tho. Usze then realized that the both of them were crying out as terror and exhaustion ripped the shrieks from their throats.

And it was over. They were still.

He put his hand on N'tho's muzzle until the younger warrior quieted.

"What are we gonna do?" N'tho said, his voice perilously close to a whimper.

"The Arbiter is in touch with the Humans. They're coming to raise the ship and cut us out. He said he'd comm us if he needed any help, but right now the best thing we can do is stay down here and hold ourselves together."

Easier said than done. Usze felt strangled, as though they were already running out of air. Logically, he knew the ship had air for a few days in it, but all of a sudden the confines of his helmet were unbearable. He popped the seal and pulled the helmet off his face, gasping in air, flaring his mandibles wide. Next to him, Nitro was staring into nothingness, eyes glassy, breathing shallow, as though he were hanging on to sanity by the thinnest of filaments.

What would the perfect Sangheili do?

All this time, Usze had considered the perfect Sangheili to be someone detached, unaffected by the emotions of the weak, unshaken by the events that occurred around him. Now, here in the wreck of _Forward Unto Dawn_ at the bottom of an alien sea, Usze realized two things.

First, he would never be that perfect Sangheili. He was _terrified_, shattered, lonely, confused, angry, bereaved, _lost_… Who was he, to try to be a role model for other Sangheili when he knew it was a lie to pretend that he'd reached perfection? His weapons skills did not give him the leadership qualities of the Arbiter, the unshakable loyalty of Rtas 'Vadum, or the indominatable spirit of Fil Storamee. Swordsmanship alone was not enough. The new way of the Sangheili people had to be _community_, and that was something Usze 'Taham knew very little about.

That was the second thing he now knew, revealed to him in a moment of revelation. He did not _want _to be that paragon of virtue alone on his pedestal, towering above the mere mortals. He did not think that distant hero was a hero worth being any longer. No, if there was any damn bit of decency within him, he'd do the right thing and take care of N'tho, who was currently shuddering in his arms, crying into his neck.

The old Usze 'Taham would have stood up, brushed himself off, and withdrawn—perhaps even chastizing N'tho for his weakness. The new Usze 'Taham had been through too much, and changed too much. The Ascetic Ideal meant very little in this moment.

"Listen to me," Usze rasped. He had to keep himself together. He had to bring Nitro back to reality, lest he be lost in a hell of memory and nightmare forever.

N'tho's eyes were wild, but he focused on Usze's face. Nitro seemed to be asking him the same question he had been asking himself: _what did he want?_

He wanted not to be alone any more.

"You remember that night on _Shadow of Intent_?"

N'tho nodded again, a small grin twisting the corner of his mouth.

"And the stream on the Ark?"

The grin widened. Yes, he definitely remembered that.

"When we make it out of here, I'm taking you to bed with me." He found his face burning even as he said the words.

"Are you seri…" N'tho couldn't even finish the sentence. He looked as though someone had set a wonderful feast in front of him, and now, as soon as he reached for it, they might jerk it away from him again.

He flicked the tip of N'tho's snout. "Are you accusing a superior of lying?" he teased.

He could see N'tho's eyes gleaming. "You're on. Sir."

And Usze, overcome by an impulse he did not understand, nipped at N'tho's neck and whispered, "I thought it was bad manners to use honourifics when…"

N'tho grinned wickedly. "We're not in bed. Sir."

"Not _yet_," Usze retorted and N'tho's mandibles flared and he started to lap Usze's neck, and Usze 'Taham wondered where in the hell his dignity had gone and why he hadn't gotten rid of it sooner.

Usze bent his head and started to lick N'tho's cheek. N'tho's skin was thick and raw and tasted like blood, gunpowder, sweat…and delight..

Suddenly there was a banging on the hull.

Usze froze. N'tho gave him some licks before he realized that his ministrations weren't making his partner relax; then the other Sangheili drew back to look Usze in the face. "What?" N'tho asked.

"The Humans," Usze managed to whisper hoarsely. "The Humans are cutting through the hull. If we keep this up, they're going to…"

"Find us rutting like animals and lose all respect for us, yeah, I know." N'tho jerked away, struggling out of the harness to stand, so fast that Usze's whole body screamed out in loss and protest. "Oh yeah, and you hate me. I know that, too."

Usze sprang to his feet as well and reached out to grab N'tho's arm by the wrist. "I don't hate you." He tugged the other Sangheili close until they were nose-to-nose. "You crazy maniac, why did you come back for me?"

He should have died on the Halo. He had flipped the Chopper, fallen off. And N'tho, the idiot, had come back to get him.

"You could have _died_," Usze continued. "Boiled to death in the lava."

N'tho shrugged. "I would have missed you." He dropped his head, looked away. It was a gesture of shame.

"I don't mind," Usze said softly. "Being missed." He took his hand, carefully, and caught N'tho's cheek, guiding the other Sangheili to look at him.

His hand was shaking. He didn't think it was just battle shock. He didn't care if N'tho knew.

He dared to put his other hand on N'tho's back and pull the Minor Domo closer. N'tho did not protest, just stood there, quivering, letting Usze stroke him, burying his muzzle in Usze's shoulder despite the fact that he had to lean downwards to do so.

Usze was trying to find the words to ask N'tho to come find him later, when this was all done—trying to figure out how to make it an invitation, not an order—when the Humans peeled back the hull and beckoned them out for medical care.

*

Usze 'Taham tried to pay attention to what the Human ONI officer was asking him, but N'tho was looking his way across the table again from out of his unbandaged eye, and Usze's thoughts persisted in following his vision until they centered around a certain SpecOps warrior instead of dwelling on the Halo mission. He answered the questions mechanically, feeling as though his mouth was moving automatically.

He felt that he'd told the story countless times already. How many times did the Humans need to hear about the "backup" Halo that had been released from the Ark? How often did he have to struggle to explain the plan that seemed to make perfect sense to the Demon and Cortana, the plan to fire the unprepared Halo? He had no idea how they could have been so sure that Halo would destroy the Flood on the Ring without wiping out the universe.

And worst of all, he had no idea where the other half of _Forward Unto Dawn_ had gone.

He couldn't even work up proper guilt, because every time he tried to tell himself that a Perfect Warrior would have been watching the monitors or something and known the Slipspace coordinates of the place where _Forward Unto Dawn_ had been cut in half, his mind retorted that he'd been spending that time looking after N'tho and saving him from suffocation.

And then his mind just stayed on N'tho.

How it had felt when N'tho was in his lap, velvet skin against his bare chest, illicitly soft, deceptively sweet.

Ancestors preserve him. He'd been absolutely serious when he'd asked N'tho to come to bed with him. Now he had no idea what would happen when the two of them were alone, and it might be a huge disaster, but by all the fallen heroes, he couldn't wait to find out.

"Look, can we sum this up here?" N'tho said at last, scratching at the bandage over his eye. "The Halo blew up. We think we got all the Flood. We know the universe is still here. We don't have any fucking clue where the Master Chief is. We're tired, we're hungry, we ache all over and we feel like shit. If you need to talk to us more, try two days from now; we'll probably be just waking up." N'tho braced his hands on the table and pulled himself to his feet, moving slowly, like a Sangheili four times his biological age.

Usze got up as well. The ONI officer, rather reluctantly it seemed, gave them permission to leave; then he jogged down the hallway after N'tho, who hadn't waited to be dismissed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Usze asked the SpecOps warrior.

"Sleep."

"Did you get a room?"

"Don't care about a room…anywhere I can sleep…quiet corner …that's enough…" N'tho was almost falling over with exhaustion.

Usze reached out a hand, caught N'tho's hand. "I have a room."

"Goody for you." N'tho couldn't keep his good eye in focus, and his words were slurred. "Go brag somewhere else an' lemme sleep."

"It's big enough for two."

"Oh." N'tho's eye widened slowly. "_Oh_."

"You're coming with me and that's an order."

N'tho nodded and let Usze pull him down the corridor. Usze flashed a card in front of a scanner and the door opened. They'd been given a room in the senior officer's quarters; the king-size bed, huge and luxurious by human standards, was just big enough to accommodate two Sangheili. Usze ushered N'tho in and closed and locked the door.

"Do I hafta sleep in my jumpsuit?" N'tho mumbled.

Oh, condemnation. Superior officers were supposed to be confident and decisive, fearless and reassuring. Usze was blushing like a virgin female on her first breeding season. N'tho was the one who knew what he was doing here…

…and if they were going to clean up at all, it would involve being naked.

Somehow the idea of taking off his armour and jumpsuit in front of Nitro seemed more intimate than the fact that they'd already been next to each other with no clothes on in that stream on the Ark.

Usze took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "No. All of our clothing is irredeemably filthy. Get out of that suit and into the hot tub."

"Hot tub?"

"Human bathtubs are ridiculously small and I refuse to squat in order to fit myself underneath a human-height shower head."

N'tho gave him a crooked grin. Usze took him by the arm and looked around the room. The hot tub was set off to one side. It took a little fiddling with the controls, but soon enough the tub was filling with warm water. Usze sniffed curiously at the accompanying bottles, guessed that one was soap, and poured some in. Fragrant bubbles frothed up from the tub.

And then he felt hands on his helmet and a voice saying "How do I pop the seal on this thing?"

Usze reached up and did it himself, lifting off the assault helmet, setting it on the table, and then looking shyly at N'tho. The SpecOps Elite continued to smile—apparently he liked what he saw.

Next, Usze put his hands on his chest armour, all the while looking at N'tho, who pulled back slightly to watch. 'Taham tried to ask _should I take it off? _But he couldn't get the words to pass his lips.

N'tho smiled softly, caught Usze's wrists in his hands and guided Usze's hands to his own armour. Usze hesitated, confused.

Then he felt N'tho undoing the snaps of his assault harness and he understood.

_We undress each other__**.**_

Usze went slowly, carefully, and N'tho's pace matched his. He gently set N'tho's armour on the floor, piece by piece, while next to 'Sraom a similar pile of claret-coloured armour slowly accumulated.

Then they were down to their bodysuits. They opened down the front, and the two Sangheili took turns—one holding a sleeve, the other pulling his arm out of it, and then they reversed until both of their jumpsuits were collected around their waists.

N'tho took Usze's jumpsuit in his hands—one on either side of Usze's hips—and then hesitated, silently asking permission.

Usze nodded, ducking his head. How long since he had been shy about anything?

N'tho gently liberated him from his clothing. He stepped out of the suit, nervously flaring his mandibles. N'tho stepped forward and buried his face in the other Sangheili's neck.

By the Rings, how he felt! Usze held him close for a few moments, stroking Nitro's back, but his hand drifted lower as if on its own accord. Soon he found himself struggling with the other male's suit. N'tho pulled away a bit, gave him a tentative grin. Usze laughed and pulled the other male's suit down.

N'tho wriggled free and leaped nimbly into the tub with a ridiculous splash.

Usze pursued him, entering the warm water with a little more dignity…but oh, it felt good. Warm, soothing on his sore muscles, sluicing the grime off his hide.

"Hey Uzi."

'Taham lifted his head.

N'tho splashed him in the face.

Usze spluttered, blinking furiously. "You damned fool…whatever possessed you to…"

N'tho was snickering at him. "Maybe you'd better come _get me_ for that."

"Maybe I _will_," Usze replied. He ducked under the water, falling to his knees and reaching out to grab N'tho's foot….then standing up as fast as he could.

It swept N'tho's other leg right out from under him and dropped the SpecOps warrior down in the tub. The resulting tidal wave slopped over the side, making an awful mess on the floor. N'tho churned his arms, resurfacing, sluicing water from his mandibles and shooting Usze such a wounded look that 'Taham collapsed back on the bench in gales of helpless laughter.

'Sraom swam up to sit beside him. He poked him in the ribs. "Damn it, I never should have taught you how to be an asshole." But he was grinning while he said it.

Usze grinned back. "I learned from the master."

"Fuck you," N'tho said, cuddling up against him.

Usze licked the other male's cheek. Under the taste of soap and water was that hypnotic musky flavour. He felt his eyelids droop.

"By the Rings, I could fall asleep in here," N'tho slurred.

"No." It was dangerous because it was true; sleep was very tempting now. "Out." Usze grabbed N'tho's arm, tugged on it. "I did not shepherd you across the Omega Halo only to have you drown in a hot tub."

"Shepherd, my ass," N'tho muttered. "I was the one driving."

"Shut up and get in the bed."

N'tho made a sleepy sound.

Usze poked him. "Come on, Nitro. Out."

N'tho slowly dragged himself out of the tub. He shook himself on the way to the bed, apparently not intending to bother with a towel.

Usze drew the line at sleeping in a puddle of dampness, no matter how tired he was. He summoned enough energy to sprint after N'tho and wrap him in a towel, rubbing him down. By the time he deemed the other Sangheili dry enough to release, N'tho's eyes were mostly shut. Usze took only a few moments to dry himself, but before he could finish, Nitro had already settled himself in the sheets on his belly.

Usze dropped his towel and hesitated beside the bed. It was not too late to sleep on the floor; Forerunners knew he was tired enough. He had a sensation that if he were to get in that bed, he would be crossing a line, and there would be no going back.

N'tho raised his head and blinked once, twice, and made a questioning noise deep in his throat. "Uzi…I'm so tired …"

"Sleep now. We'll see what happens in the morning, hm?"

Nitro managed a sleepy smile, purring loudly as Usze 'Taham pulled back the covers and settled himself beside N'tho 'Sraom.

Oh, it felt so good. Not just the ability to take weight off his aching feet or the sensation of finally being clean or the fact that he didn't have to think about anything or do anything—no, the best was that velvet caress of his chest against N'tho. Such a decadent reward for a weary warrior… He nudged the other warrior onto his side, tucking his chest against Nitro's back, marvelling at his own automatic purring.

In the second before unconsciousness claimed him, Usze heard N'tho murmur, "Fuck _yeah_."


	9. Chapter 9: Warrior's Reward

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Ninth: Warrior's Reward**

Nitro woke up somewhere warm and happy. His muscles were stiff, but the whisper of bedding against his hide was all the sweeter for it. And he wasn't alone. There was someone else behind him, lying with an arm draped lazily over his chest. N'tho took in a deep breath. Most of what he scented were the sheets and pillows, which smelled like the fragrances the Humans used on their clothing, as opposed to the familiar scent-stamp of Sangheili property, where over time clothing took on the signature smell of its owner. He could catch only the faintest hint of his partner's musk.

So he was in a Human room, with another Sangheili. Someone nice, N'tho mused as his bedmate cuddled closer. It was such a treat to find an appreciative partner who wanted to stay and snuggle afterwards…

N'tho opened his right eye and saw only hazy darkness. Startled, he bolted upright in bed. The room snapped into one-eyed focus as his left eyelid raised. He suddenly remembered the Human medics ministering to the eye he'd wounded back on Delta Halo. A stream of images flickered through his mind: Omega Halo, the Mongoose, the lava, the ship sliced in two…

_Uzi._

By the Rings, he was in bed with the Blademaster.

Usze was still asleep, but his hand was searching around, trying to find where Nitro had gone. 'Taham wriggled over into the warm spot that Nitro had just vacated, curled up against 'Sraom's thigh and sighed happily. The smile on Uzi's face suited him. He ought to do it more often; it was a shame he was always so cranky when he was awake.

N'tho's memory returned. Once again, they hadn't mated, but on the other hand, here he was, in bed with Uzi, both of them minus their clothes this time… N'tho clicked his teeth as he wondered what might happen when Uzi woke up. Would he really want to fool around? Or might things be different now that the battle was over and they were safe? Battle stress made so many Sangheili do things they wouldn't ordinarily do.

Well, Nitro thought, things Uzi wouldn't ordinarily do, at any rate.

Nitro looked down at the sleeping Blademaster and felt strangely unsettled. He'd been pestering Usze incessantly ever since that night on _Shadow of Intent_, but maybe…maybe he shouldn't be trying to turn Usze away from the Ascetic's path.

But he wanted the Blademaster so badly.

He hoped that Usze's interest in him wasn't just battle strain sharpened by the repression of the Ascetic lifestyle. And he realized that if it was, he still wouldn't turn Usze down. Nitro knew what he wanted.

But what if Uzi woke up and didn't want him any more?

He ran his hand down Usze's back and listened to the Blademaster purr.

_Please, dear Ancestors…don't let him hate me, after._

_Please don't let him reject me now._

He could have watched Uzi forever were it not for the fact that his stomach started rumbling incessantly. He'd been hungry last night, but he'd been too tired to care. Now that he'd had some rest, his body was demanding sustenance.

Nitro got up and limped over to his armour—by the Rings, he was stiff—and realized just how awful his clothing looked. His jumpsuit had several large tears in it, was soaked in blood, ichor and sweat, and smelled horrible. He didn't want to put it back on to go out, but he had nothing else to wear here in this Human room.

He did, however, have some knowledge he'd picked up from the Humans.

Picking up the phone, he dialed for the base operator, and asked how one would go about getting room service.

*

"Uzi, wake up."

'Taham grimaced, unwilling to surface from the depths of his rest, and not able to make sense of the voice or the words disturbing him.

"Uzi. Breakfast."

Then there was a smell…some kind of thick, rich meat… His stomach rumbled. The delicious fragrance was enough to make him crack open one eye.

"What is this "breakfast?" Usze mumbled. Sangheili usually ate only one meal a day, right before they went to sleep.

"Humans eat food when they wake up. And since we didn't eat last night, I thought you might be hungry. Check this out."

There was a big bowl of food resting between his pillow and Nitro's. The SpecOps warrior was squinting in pain as he drew his legs up into the bed, reclaiming the hollow where he had clearly been laying. Usze could see only the wide, muscular expanse of Nitro's bare back…though he realized with a sudden flush that Nitro must still be naked.

N'tho started pointing to the contents of the bowl. "Turkey in gravy, prime rib, curried lamb, barbecue pork chops, teriyaki chicken, garlic butter salmon…"

Usze didn't know what most of those things were, but they all smelled amazing. He sat up, and then became acutely aware of the fact that he'd slept with no clothing on.

"We're not wearing anything," Usze pointed out cautiously. He felt suddenly nervous. What was he doing naked in bed with another male?

"Our jumpsuits and armour are totally nasty." N'tho didn't seem bothered by this fact. He popped a piece of meat into his mouth and slurped it down.

"And we are not washing them," Usze observed. He couldn't believe how good that smelled! Tentatively he reached out for a piece of the "teriyaki."

"I don't know about you, but I'm too hungry to care," N'tho said around a throatful of food. "Drink?" He offered Usze a mug with a straw in it.

Usze took a swig. The drink was delightfully warm, and the flavour, though strange and strong, was not unpleasant. "What's this?"

"Coffee. Whatever that is."

Usze glanced at him sidelong. "How did you get all this?"

"Room service."

'Taham didn't understand that phrase. "Please translate as whether you did, or did not, go out hunting naked."

"Nope. No naked hunting. Just someone passing dishes through the door. I was wrapped in a blanket at the time, for the record."

"Thank the Forerunners."

"Never figured you for the jealous type."

Jealous. Was that the word for that possessive, angry, defensive feeling he kept having in his guts—jealousy? "Are you so certain my concern is not a simple matter of propriety?"

N'tho thought for a moment, chewing on a piece of beef. "Yep."

The galling part was that N'tho was right. Usze felt surly and sour, like he just wanted to curl up and wish that the whole world would go away and leave him alone.

N'tho poked him. "Hey, try this. It's awesome." N'tho held the tidbit right up in front of 'Taham's nose.

Usze clicked his mandibles and snatched it out of N'tho's hand. Condemnation, the SpecOps warrior was right. It did taste wonderful.

"Here, have some more." N'tho seemed quite happy to tempt him with tasty bites in between his own mouthfuls.

Oh, why not. He _was_ hungry.

"We really shouldn't be eating in bed," Usze said around a throatful of lamb.

"Probably not," N'tho agreed cheerfully, licking gravy off his fingers. "You gonna order me to stop, or you gonna have some more?" He held out a piece of pork.

"I hereby declare this feast the perogative of any warrior who survived the Omega Halo," Usze muttered, and snagged the pork in his mandibles.

They devoured the contents of the bowl. Only when Usze set the now-empty bowl on the bedside table did he realize that his stomach was full; the food tasted so good, he wished there was more, but he really didn't need more. He was sluggish as it was; it was a natural inclination for Sangheili to sleep after they ate. It felt very nice to curl up next to N'tho and…

N'tho. Next to N'tho. Naked.

He quivered, feeling that strange heat building inside him again, like the night on _Shadow of Intent_. He placed his hand on N'tho's chest; the other Sangheili was utterly still, saying nothing. He wondered if N'tho would ask him to touch him again. He hoped he would.

He realized he also _wanted_ N'tho to touch him, _there_. He didn't know how to ask. Surely N'tho would figure it out. N'tho was the one who talked about sex and fucking all the time. N'tho was the one who knew what he was doing. This was when it was supposed to happen, right?

But N'tho wasn't doing _anything_ other than laying there with his head on Usze's chest and his eyes shut.

"You want dessert?" N'tho replied softly, his eyes still closed.

Sangheili often ate dessert—usually some form of candied meat, or maybe a cheese—but he could smell no more food. "Where is it?"

N'tho's eyes opened slowly. "Right here," he murmured, and pressed his back into Usze's chest.

Usze's mandibles gaped as Nitro's meaning became clear. "I'm to take a taste of you, is that it?" he replied, stroking the other warrior's chest, trying to quell his rising nerves.

"That's right. Here I am." He rolled over onto his belly and arched his neck, exposing the nape.

There was something about Nitro's submissive demeanor that felt wrong to 'Taham. He wasn't ready to just…to just grab him and fuck him. He wanted more from Nitro, and Nitro deserved more from him. This wasn't how an expression of tenderness between two warriors should be—was it?

"N'tho?" Usze choked.

"Come on," Nitro said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Mount me."

Usze flinched at the hollowness in N'tho's voice—he couldn't help it—but he reached out and ran his hand down the other warrior's shoulder, feeling the thick hide and the powerful muscles beneath. "Why so quickly?" he asked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Are you in a hurry?"

"Do you not want me?" N'tho's head swung around, his eye shining with unshed tears.

"Nitro," Usze breathed. "It's my first time…be patient with me." He ran a hand over his partner's shoulder. "Please."

N'tho let out a breath. "Okay. Okay," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. "Just pretend I'm a female. It can't be that different."

Usze quivered. Whatever he did, he couldn't be just one more mark on Nitro's long, long list…nor could he be the _worst_ mark on that list. Then his mandibles clenched as a thought occurred to him. Could a male like the same things as a female? The Ascetics said a thing worth having was a thing worth fighting for, and Usze 'Taham had just conceived his battle plan.

Usze bent down beside the other male, eyeing the curve of muscles in his back and neck. Both male and female Sangheili had a spot on the back of their neck that, when bitten, forcibly relaxed the muscles of the body. In the long-lost ages of Sangheili evolution, it had let mothers safely carry children in their mouths. These days it was mostly used for breeding, particularly for relaxing a nervous partner—a common situation when males and females often met for the first time in the breeding chambers.

Usze located the spot. As he dropped to his knees, he prayed to the Ancestors that this would work.

Then he bit N'tho, hard, right there.

'Sraom gasped; but Usze did not relax his bite. Instead he shook N'tho a little, establishing his dominance and deepening the effect of the bite. Only when he could feel N'tho hanging limply from his jaws did he let go.

N'tho was gasping, whimpering.

Usze opened the bedside drawer. His small bag of personal effects was there, and in it, he had something that might help him win this battle.

Usze dropped the item in the middle of N'tho' back.

He was ready to fight for Nitro.

*

As N'tho felt Usze's teeth sinking into his flesh, he wasn't sure whether he was thrilled that he was going to finally get it on with Usze 'Taham, or frightened that Usze might, in fact, have been angry at him all along and was now preparing to take revenge…

But what N'tho felt next was not Usze entering him. Instead, what he was feeling was in the middle of his back, and it was light and somewhat greasy and sweet-smelling and…

N'tho gasped. Cold!

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was trembling. He didn't even bother to try to hide it. He couldn't move anything but his head. Holy shit, Usze had bitten him _hard_. His limbs felt tingly and distant.

The cold thing, whatever it was, didn't hurt…yet.

"You're stiff," Usze said. "I saw you moving with that bowl. This should help with your sore muscles."

"What is that?" he asked.

"Hold your tongue," Usze replied, and bent over him.

The cold thing trailed over his shoulder blades, and where it passed, it left a trail that felt wet and warm, both at the same time. Scent wafted through the air. The object traced circles on his back, and then it was set in the hollow at his waist. Usze's hands slid over his back, slick and moist, pressing into his tired muscles. Pain bloomed, but hard on its heels was an incredible soothing sensation.

N'tho shut his eye, whimpering shamelessly. "What the fuck?" His thoughts were a twisted mix of grief at the fact that 'Taham didn't seem to want to mate, hopelessly entwined with waves of pleasure and relief.

"Hasn't anyone ever been nice to you?" Usze asked. "Cared for you? Looked after you?"

Nice. Nice didn't even begin to cover how good this felt, as his crying muscles soaked in whatever that strange cooling-warming moisture was, and Usze's hands stroked him all over from neck to waist and back again.

"Hasn't anyone appreciated your body? Look at you…you're breathtaking… Is it so wrong for me to want to…explore you?"

Usze didn't seem to be in any sort of hurry—his hands travelled everywhere, kneading and caressing. N'tho felt a purr rumbling in his chest and a painful tightening in his groin.

"Don't you remember that stream on the Ark? What we were doing there?" Usze murmured. "If we hadn't been interrupted….wouldn't it have lead somewhere like…this?"

And, by the Ancestors, Usze was touching him there between his thighs, his hand wet and slick, and it felt even better than he remembered. By the Rings! Suddenly Usze's touch was both tender and erotic, and he squealed, not knowing what else to do.

"More?" Usze asked.

N'tho tried to nod, ended up just stuffing pillow into his jaws. "Yeah."

Usze smiled and gave him more, until he writhed and clenched his jaws. "You must understand I'm new at this," Usze whispered. "So I need to go very slowly…and learn." He let his fingers gently explore his mate's most intimate territory. "Do you mind?"

"No…." N'tho mewed again. "No, you can just….take all the time…you want…"

Finally Usze's hand stilled in mid stroke. Nitro mewled; from the corner of his eye he saw Usze set something on the end table. It was cream-coloured and looked sticky, and it was the source of the sweet scent. "What is it?" he dared to ask.

"It's a massage bar." Usze paused. "It's supposed to ease sore muscles."

"Feels good," N'tho mumbled. It was a ridiculous understatement. He invented a blatent lie to coax Usze's hand back where Nitro wanted it most. "My, er, my shaft is really, really aching….really…" As soon Usze resumed stroking Nitro's shaft, 'Sraom let his purr come rumbling out his mouth.

Oh, by the Rings, Usze's stroking was growing harder, faster, just the way Nitro liked it. The way he _loved_ it. He could feel Usze's chest against his back and that moist heat between them….

"If you keep that up I'm gonna…." Nitro gasped.

"Go ahead," Usze whispered. "We have all day to play, hm?"

"Take…take what you want. I won't stop you."

"There's a big difference," Usze growled, "between taking what I want and giving you what you want."

N'tho swallowed hard. "Maybe not that big."

No, not that big at all. The more time he spent with Usze, the more he wanted him…but he was starting to feel nervous, as though he were venturing into new territory, away from the familiar pattern he repeated over and over again with different partners.

Usze nipped at N'tho's neck, slowing his touch to a gentle caress. "How am I supposed to know what you really desire? One moment you're all about mating this, and fucking that, and the next, you roll over and…and disconnect like I was…like you were…" It seemed that he could not find the words. "Since males cannot breed, what is the point if not mutual pleasure?"

N'tho felt his face burning with shame. What was the point indeed? N'tho clamped his mandibles together, because a Sangheili warrior did not break. If he wept before the Blademaster, he was truly damned. "I don't want to talk about it," he coughed. "And I like…like being mounted. On the Ark…if we'd been there just a bit longer…I was going to bend over that rock for you…Why can't you just let me please you?"  
Usze chuckled. "I'm an aristocrat," he whispered, his breath hot in Nitro's earbud. "Do you know what that means?"

Usze adjusted his grip and began those long, slow strokes again. Nitro's only response was a whimper.

"It means I like to show off," the Blademaster continued. "So, my brave hero, if you wish to please me…you'll shut up and enjoy."

Nitro clapped his mandibles shut.

"Or, if you must run that mouth of yours…perhaps you could let me know what you like…what you want…and how you feel…"

"But," N'tho gasped, "this isn't how it happens!" His world spun in a blur of confusion and excitement and heady delirium. So many of his lovers had taken their pleasure and then let him be. Usze, on the other hand, seemed determined to reduce Nitro to a mewling animal, drowning in its own lust…to strip away the little pride he had…_but it felt so good…_

"Is that so bad?" Usze murmured. "You seem so happy. Would it be so wrong for you and I to share something special?"

Nitro was beginning to protest that Usze could find someone better, when Usze's finger found a very sweet place and N'tho completely lost his ability to speak. Instead, 'Sraom threw back his head, crying his assent. He abandoned himself to his mate, trusting Usze to be good to him, and his fragile trust was not misplaced.

When he finally recovered his voice, he rolled onto his side to face his bed mate. "I'm not a good partner for you," he managed to say at last, burying his face in Uzi's neck so he would not have to see Uzi's reaction.

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't want to say."

Usze sighed. "You don't have to," Usze replied, stroking Nitro's body all the while, so that the tantalizing touches soothed the harshness of his words. "I can _guess_. You _expect _to be treated badly. You've got battle skills good enough to make SpecOps, and a natural ability to build a rapport with others, and a truly frightening courage, but that's not enough for you, is it?"

"I've got a Mark of Punishment. Everything I have…everything I want…I have to work twice as hard for…and pay a steep price for."

"You're a Swordsman." Usze whispered. "Doesn't that count for something?"

Nitro felt his desire suddenly fall away, disappearing like a snake down a hole. He wrenched away from Usze and sat up. "I wonthat sword by fucking the _last _Blademaster. Qualifying's not enough for me. I had to throw in something _extra_." His hackles raised. "But I won it. I didn't care what it cost, I got it." N'tho narrowed his eye. "So if you think I'm a slut, now you know why. I take what I can get. And I know it doesn't last and I…" His voice hitched. "I'm…scared…"

"And you think you're alone in that?" 'Taham sat up as well and lunged seizing N'tho's wrists in his fists, letting his momentum knock Nitro back onto the bed with Usze's weight on top of him. Their faces were a finger's breadth apart; Usze looked down at Nitro, his eyes flashing fire. By the Ancestors, he was magnificent when he was angry! "I'm prepared to resign from the Ascetics because of you! I'm supposed to be coolly, calmly, professionally setting an example for all you lesser peons to follow. I am _not _supposed to be rescued after crashing a Mongoose and earning my own doom, I am _not _supposed to be terrified enough to foul my armour in the hold of a crashing warship while clinging desperately to a subordinate for comfort, and I am most definitely _not _supposed to want another warrior so badly that I would do anything for him… Nitro, you bastard, you've torn apart my entire _world_." He nipped the other Sangheili's cheek. "Do you think I would do less than ensure you experience the same?"

The cheek was a long way from the sweet spot on the neck, so why did Nitro feel paralyzed again? 'Taham licked his neck and Nitro mewed, burrowing closer, seeking the courage to speak one simple phrase.

"I…I like that."

"May I give you more, then?"

'Sraom choked, wrapped his arms around Usze for comfort, and nodded.

The Blademaster smiled and continued lapping at him. "No, it's not how it usually happens, is it? Not for me either. You're nothing like a breeding obligation, my brave warrior…" Usze hesitated just a little, and Nitro writhed and heard Usze chuckling in his earbud and knew the other male was doing it on purpose. To tease him. To make him want all over again… Uzi continued, "I can't pretend you're a female," he whispered, releasing his grip and sliding his hands down N'tho's arms to his shoulders, tracing his fingers over the corded muscles and the battle scars inscribed in N'tho's hide. "Your build, your scent, the feel of you…the power in you…there's no way you can be mistaken for anything other than a warrior. My hero, who saved me on the Omega Halo." He closed his eyes again. "I like the feel of you, the taste of you," he whispered. "I would not pretend you to be other than you are."

N'tho trembled. Despite his apprehension, the words made him feel, for the first time in a long time, proud to be in his own skin.


	10. 10 11: Usze's Desires N'tho's Seduction

**Author's Note: **These are the chapters where I made some major content cuts. Overall, though, I'm satisfied that the "fade to black" parts don't fade out any vital plot or character development.

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Tenth/Eleventh: Usze's Desires/N'tho's Seduction**

Usze dozed somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He remembered eating "breakfast" in this very bed; the bowl still sat on the end table, with only a few wisps of sauce remaining long enough to dry into crust. He flushed as he also remembered Nitro's so-called dessert. Next to the meat bowl sat the massage bar, which was probably apt to leave a stain, but Usze no longer cared.

Usze preferred to spend his time remembering how it had felt to rub N'tho with that bar. He shifted slightly and Nitro's oil-slicked skin slid over his in a way that made him moan.

N'tho was curled up against him, sound asleep. By the Forerunners, they were still exhausted; they had stroked one another, and whispered in each other's earbuds and held each other and somewhere along the line they must have drifted off together.

Usze felt a brief flicker of guilt. It was quickly extinguished by a montage of images—the Flood, the mad dash across the half-completed Halo, the back half of _Forward Unto Dawn_ falling out into oblivion. The memories made Usze shake and press closer to N'tho. The Ascetics could not begin to comprehend what Usze had survived. They could not judge him.

The feeling of N'tho next to him washed that guilt away in a tidal wave of emotion.

Part of it was delight in the knowledge that N'tho was still in his bed. Part of it was the comfort of another body next to him; a pleasure he had not enjoyed since he was a child. But most of it was a growing awareness of certain specific factors: N'tho's scent, the seductive caress of his skin against Usze's, the soft sighing of his breath. Other factors, like the objects in the room or the sense of time passing, vanished completely from Usze's perception. Usze felt his own temperature rising, his mouth salivating as if for a meal, and his mind becoming increasingly focused on the nerves in his groin…

N'tho cuddled against him in his sleep, and his hand brushed Usze's flank and the Blademaster moaned aloud.

'Taham jerked his head around, for fear the sound had awoken N'tho, but 'Sraom continued to sleep soundly.

Usze extended one trembling hand to rub N'tho's shoulder blades. The other Sangheili purred loudly and nuzzled his face against 'Taham's chest. Usze looked down to see a big fat smile on N'tho's face.

By the Ancestors, N'tho was so uninhibited. The SpecOps warrior knew what he liked and wasn't afraid to let everyone see. Usze, meanwhile, was still struggling with the confusion, shame, and fear that resulted from letting even the smallest cracks form in his cool exterior.

What could N'tho possibly see in him? Usze screwed his eyes shut, feeling sick. Once they left Earth—once N'tho was back with his comrades in the Fleet—'Sraom, now a hero, would be able to find much more exciting sexual partners than an inexperienced ex-Ascetic. Aristocratic arrogance could only carry him so far when there was no practice behind his boasts.

N'tho bunted him, seeking more. Usze rubbed the other Sangheili's back and N'tho purred happily. The vibrations from N'tho's chest massaged Usze's skin and…and…

If Usze shifted a little, he could feel N'tho's purr against his shaft and… Usze gritted his mandibles. Was he taking advantage of N'tho? Why didn't N'tho wake up and… _so good…Nitro felt so good…_

_…more…_

Usze didn't know how long he lay there, his mind wracked by fantasies and guilt, his body torn by these new and powerful sensations as his partner slept on, oblivious. Usze did know, however, that he was becoming more and more keyed-up, until his whole body was trembling with passion denied. His mandibles flickered as muscles twitched involuntarily. Did he dare touch himself, with N'tho draped against him? What if…

"Did I miss something?" a voice mumbled.

Usze struggled to reassert control, feeling his body scream in protest and pain as he half-rolled away from N'tho. N'tho pursued him, cuddling up behind him and wrapping an arm over his chest. 'Taham was humiliated to hear a little moan escape his mandibles—but it felt wonderful, to have the other male spooned against him! N'tho seemed to like it too, because he resumed his purring. Usze could feel the rumbling vibrations through his back. It made him smile. When N'tho stroked the scar on his belly, Usze began to let out some purrs of his own.

Then N'tho's hand drifted downward.

"Oh…looks like I definitely missed something," N'tho said and Usze wondered how it was possible to be so frightened and yet so very excited at the same time. "What a nice way to wake up," N'tho murmured in Usze's earbud. "And what can I do for you now, sir?"

Usze, who was still trying to wrap his thoughts around the idea of having a bed mate—and the physical reactions that a bed mate caused—could not bring himself to contemplate what it might be like to mate with N'tho, right here, right now. He certainly could not manage to articulate that phrase. It was all so sudden, so fast, so overwhelming…

"We missed the SpecOps party," he said instead.

"Did we?" N'tho responded with a sly grin. He stroked the other male's cheek. "Seems to me we have our own party right here."

Usze closed his eyes. Yes, they did.

"Could you…" Usze panted. His throat closed off from nerves.

"Yes?"

"_Shadow of Intent…"_

"What about _Shadow of Intent_?" N'tho asked, licking at Usze's neck.

"And this afternoon….would you…"

"Hmm?"

Damn him! The Minor Domo was doing this on _purpose_!

__"I…I want…"

Words failed him.

"I can't say it," Usze confessed.

"But you want?" N'tho asked, stroking Usze's side.

All those fantasies he hadn't let himself dwell on suddenly forced themselves into his mind in a torrential rush. How would it feel to be mounted? How would it feel to surrender himself? How would it feel to forget about rules and codes of conduct and the judgments of others, in favour of sharing himself with another…completely?

_Admit it, Usze. You want him._

"I want…my turn this time," Usze managed.

N'tho replied in a slow whisper, "Sure, we can do that."

*

Hours later, Sangheili Blademaster Usze 'Taham woke up alone on the pile of pillows and shivered, terrified by what he'd done.

He could feel the strange sticky sensation between his thighs, and a deep, slow ache inside himself. He was still covered in sweat, fouling the pillows beneath him. And he…

He gritted his mandibles. He'd made an _embarrassment _of himself. Just a few touches, and he'd been down on his knees for N'tho.

Nitro had been strangely hesitant, and Usze hadn't even ordered the Minor Domo to provide his pleasure of choice. He'd _begged _instead. And N'tho had been so quickly convinced…

Usze couldn't even say he hadn't liked it. He'd _loved_ it, and N'tho's mews in his earbud had suggested that 'Sraom had loved it as well.

But now Nitro was gone.

Usze felt his throat go dry and his stomach turn over. This was how it worked in Spec Ops, wasn't it? Survive the mission, have your fun, and then… Nitro had woken up, cleaned up, armoured up, and he was likely out with the Humans right now, or maybe sending a message to Rtas 'Vadum with the help of the Humans' Slipspace satellites. Nitro was probably smug and pleased with himself.

Usze was here, alone, with the wreckage.

He wound himself into a little ball, whimpering. There was no reason to hide it now. Nitro had cracked him, exposing his insecurities; there was no use in pretending he was anywhere near a Perfect Warrior.

'Taham heard the sound of a door opening, followed by a sharp intake of breath. The next thing he knew, N'tho was kneeling beside the pillows, stroking him. "Uzi…good morning, handsome."

Usze shut his eyes. Nitro was licking his cheek, and it was just more than he could take. He put his arms around the other warrior and pulled him close.

N'tho smelled sweet, and his hide was damp. Usze realized that N'tho must have just come out of the tub.

"Hey, there," N'tho murmured. "You okay?"

"I thought…I thought you'd left." It sounded pathetic to Usze's ears.

"Nah. Just cleaning up. You want to join me?"

Usze wanted nothing more. He nodded, mutely.

Nitro bent over to pick him up, but Usze put his hand on the other warrior's chest and gently pushed him clear. He was not so helpless as to need to be carried. He felt tender, but not in pain.

N'tho was still watching him, his visible eye shimmering, and Usze realized that 'Sraom might have misunderstood that shove. Usze reached out his hand and N'tho, smiling shyly, took it.

By the Ancestors, the water felt good. N'tho sat down next to him, still regarding him carefully. "How are you doing?" 'Sraom asked awkwardly.

"Fine," Usze replied, and then there was a long silence. It stretched until N'tho's finger moved against Uzi's palm and Usze realized they were still holding hands.

"Can I…give you a wash?"

It sounded as though Nitro was being gracious, but Usze could not pretend any longer. "That was pathetic," he said, his voice full of self-disgust.

N'tho recoiled, throwing Usze's hand away. "If I was that bad, why didn't you…"

Oh, condemnation, Nitro was taking it all wrong! Usze lunged, seizing his mate's shoulders. "Not you, _me_. You…you're breathtaking."

"So you liked?" N'tho sounded nervous.

"Yes."

Nitro grinned and wrapped his arms around him. Usze realized that his lunge had him leaning over the other Sangheili. He sighed and let N'tho pull him onto his lap.

N'tho nuzzled him. "I don't think you're pathetic at all."

Usze peered at him skeptically. "I was mewling for you like a hatchling for its mother. What you did to me…I felt that my hide was on fire, that my desire was the only thing in the universe. That I needed you inside me or I'd die." He shook his head. "And after…when I realized what I'd done…how I'd grovelled for you…."

"I just wanted to please you."

"By the Forerunners, you're an absolute menace." He shook his head—no wonder the Ascetics rarely mated! It was far too easy to be an absolute fool for your partner.

"Uzi," Nitro whispered, then corrected himself. "Er, Usze."

The Blademaster felt his mandibles quivering as he said, "You can call me Uzi…I don't mind…not when it's just the two of us…"

N'tho nuzzled up to him. "It was an honour, Usze."

Usze quivered. "If you tell anyone…"

"I won't." He licked Usze's cheek. "I promise."

"I won't take your sword."

N'tho blinked. "It's not a bribe, Uzi. I won't hurt you. I won't tell, no matter what you do."

"And I won't take your sword. What I saw on the Halo…if all of SpecOps is like you, the Brutes don't stand a chance."

N'tho laughed. "Let's hope not." He reached over, retrieved the soap and started to scrub his mate's shoulders. "You really are tense," N'tho murmured, dancing his fingers over Usze's shoulder and the little hollow between his shoulder and his neck.

Usze felt a groan building up in his throat. Reflexively, he bit it down—hiding outward displays of emotion was just habit—but his attempt was only partially successful as a soft moan escaped between his mandibles.

And N'tho heard it. Usze knew he did, because he laid his head on Usze's shoulder and kept right on doing that, then slipped his hand around to the back of Usze's neck, letting his caress seek out Usze's sweet spot...

Usze squinted his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, but his next moan was louder anyway.

"Don't hide it," N'tho whispered. "Please. I like to know when I'm doing what you like."

"The problem," Usze panted, "is that I seem to like _everything_ you do…" He liked having his back scratched by Nitro's claws. He liked when Nitro touched his ribs so lightly that he squirmed when it tickled. He liked the comforting feeling he got when Nitro rubbed his belly in soothing circles. And he liked when…

He gasped. No, he _loved _when Nitro touched him there, making him ready to mate in the blink of an eye. Why, when he'd often struggled to get himself in the proper mood for mating with a wide assortment of well-bred females, was he permanently turned on by a slutty Minor Domo?

_Stop thinking about him that way. He saved your life. He almost lost his own doing it. He's not just a slut. He's your hero._

_For now, anyway._

Usze turned his attention away from these dark thoughts and back to Nitro's caresses. He had to get his fill of Nitro while he had the chance….and by the Rings, was it nice…

"Can it be my turn?" N'tho asked shyly.

"Your turn to…?"

"Be on the bottom," Nitro whispered, nuzzling his mandibles under Usze's. "I'm not being too forward, am I?"

Usze choked. "After that recent performance…I deserve your overtures, don't I?" He turned his head away.

N'tho nudged him with his muzzle. "What's wrong? Why are you ashamed? You were so happy …weren't you?" Nitro sucked in air. "Did you really not like it?"

Uzi laughed hollowly. "I think if I said no, it would be clear that I was lying."

"Do you not like…me?"

Uzi shook his head. "I like you too much."

N'tho nestled close. "What do you mean, too much?" He bunted Usze's lower jaws. "It's nice to be wanted." Nitro ducked his head. "In that river on the Ark, before those others showed up…I wanted to tell you…it's you I like…a lot."

Uzi felt a sudden relief at the chance to change the subject.. He couldn't deal with how Nitro made him feel outside of bed, not right now. Better to investigate how Nitro felt about him… "I thought you'd figured out who I was and came into the river to tease me and make me feel stupid."

"I had figured out who you were," Nitro confessed, "but I meant every word of what I said. I guess…" He swallowed. "It was easier to tell you when you were pretending to be 'Sumai, because the way you usually are, with the helmet and the icy cool and everything, well, all you'd have to do is call me a blabbering idiot and it'd just crush me, you know, the way you can make someone feel like dirt with just a word and a look…."

Usze felt awful. The thrill he used to get from cutting others down was ashes now. What was the point of being better than everyone else when you were always alone? He really had been a jerk, he saw it now, and besides…the thrills he got from Nitro were so much better.

"I'd like to see if I can make you feel like mating with me with just a word and a look," he murmured, his voice low. He had to take control of this situation…had to…or he'd end up broken again, on his knees, begging for Nitro. _Again._

"Uzi," N'tho whispered, "all I have to do is watch you and I get weak in the knees…the way you move…I used to wonder what it would be like to feel you touch me with that exacting precision, that flowing grace…" He shivered, his body showing just how aroused he was at the thought. "And now I guess I _know_, and Uzi, my fantasies didn't even begin to do you justice."

Usze felt a glowing pride at N'tho's words.

N'tho swallowed. "Can I make a request?" the Minor Domo asked.

Usze felt a brief flash of irritation. He wasn't used to being asked to concede for others. But he also knew how far Nitro had come, to ask him for something without feeling the need to beg…or to hold silent.

"Proceed."

"Can we…" He nudged Uzi with his muzzle. "In front of the mirror…can we…do it there? Can I…watch?"

"I think I have a better idea," Usze murmured.

"Uzi, please…I need to know it's you," 'Sraom said, his unbandaged eye staring intently into Usze's. "When we're…I need to know it's you inside me. Not someone else. You. Please, I…"

The Blademaster cut him off. "Trust me," he whispered in the SpecOps warrior's earbud. "Towel off and go to the bed."

They got out of the tub in silence. Usze found himself trembling with anticipation. Nitro still seemed uncertain as he toweled himself off and approached the bed, then hesitated, bending his knees….

"No," Usze said gently. "In the bed."

"In the bed?" 'Sraom looked confused now, but did as he was told, taking position on all fours in the middle of the bed.

Usze nudged his side with his muzzle. "On your back."

"What?"

'Taham licked his mate. "Trust me," he repeated

"Okay." N'tho gave him a tentative smile and lay down, rolling over, stretching out…

…his body was magnificent…

Usze gently lowered himself over his mate. Would this work for a male as it worked for a female? He thought so…he hoped so…

"Why watch my reflection," Usze murmured, "when you can dig your claws into my shoulders and look me in the eye?"

*

Nitro struggled for breath, his chest already heaving with excitement. He could see Usze kneeling over him, admiring his body, and a quiver of happiness traced its way up his spine.

Usze dipped his mouth next to Nitro's earbud and whispered, "Why watch a reflection when you could hold me…taste me…watch me…the whole time?"

N'tho moaned. "Usze…this isn't how I usually…this isn't how …"

"Is that so wrong?"

"No!" He closed his eye and felt Usze's tongue, hot and sweet, trace a wet trail across his chest. "No, it's good…"

"Do you trust me?"

_Yes_ was less than honest and _no_ wasn't an answer he wanted to give. Instead, he opened his eye and whispered, "I want to."

"Give me a chance," Usze replied as he rubbed his knuckles over his mate's mandibles. "Will you let me try something I think will please you?"

Usze was asking. Not telling. _Asking_. Nitro's breath escaped in a rush as he nodded.

Usze's hands closed not on his hips, but his shoulders. Uzi's claws teased his skin somewhere between pain and delight; then Usze's tongue erased the scratches in long, decadent strokes. And there was still no sex.

"What are you doing?" Nitro panted.

"I seem to recall that you told me to do it as though you were a female," Usze purred.

Nitro's head was a blur of sensation; the experience was so intense that his perceptions were shifting. Usze's tongue was trailing its way down N'tho's body. Every touch was as real and distinct as an object; every sound exploded with colour and light; the scent of Usze wrapped around him like a caress.

"I meant…" Nitro could barely form the words. "I meant…you just mount me from behind…pierce me with your shaft…and go until you come."

"Really?" The aristocrat's voice was smooth. "How very low-class…" The Blademaster continued his caresses; somewhere Usze's fingers and tongue must have encountered one another because when Uzi started to stroke Nitro's inner thighs, his fingers were tantalizingly moist. "You should put your hands behind your head and relax, my dear hero. You should close your eyes and enjoy this."

N'tho did as Usze said and found himself suspended in a world of pleasure, as Usze's clever touches brought him to the edge time and again, only to retreat at the last moment and leave him gasping and mewing for more…before beginning all over again.

Nitro's hearts began to pulse a syncopated beat. "What are you doing to me?"

"Here. Catch your breath." Uzi wrapped his arms around Nitro; 'Sraom could feel his mate's skin, dry and warm, against his own belly which was wet from Usze's teasing. The hug was comforting, but his body screamed for release.

"Don't stop!"

"I won't stop," Uzi replied with a soft caress, "and that's a promise, I won't stop unless you ask. But let me explain." He loosened the hug and his hand begain to travel across Nitro's chest, pausing at every rib as if to examine them. "I am the biological son of Toha 'Sumai…yes, _the _Toha 'Sumai, the famous swordsman. A Swordsman like Toha has his pick of females. That's how he chose my mother, even though she was married into the House of 'Taham. With options like that, Toha breeds to suit his own alliances…and indulge his own fancies." Uzi licked at Nitro's neck as if to emphasize that he was indulging his particular fancies right now.

"On Sangheilos there are some very powerful females…High Priestesses, Captains of the Home Guard, merchant queens," Usze murmured, like a storyteller. "They covet the kind of genetics in my family line. But, as they are accustomed to power and influence in their own spheres, it does not please them to stoop for a male, nor to beg for the favour of the likes of Toha 'Sumai. It suits them much more to find a young male from a favoured bloodline, a male as yet too young to have accumulated the accolades that would give him fame and power, but one already earmarked to achieve great things in the future. Such a match gives these females all the benefits of a strong bloodline for their child without forcing these females into what they would term indignities." Usze let out a breath; Nitro saw him lap his own fingers again. "Can you imagine a High Priestess in the breeding chamber? Those females are demanding, relentless, and woe to the male who does not please them. If their sexual tastes do not run to other females, pregnancy alone will not satisfy them. They will have their pleasure before their partners leave or there will be hell to pay." Now those moist fingers were dancing over N'tho's flesh, cool against his body's heat and yet inflaming him further.

"They chose you," N'tho said, realizing what Usze was telling him.

"Yes." Nitro saw Uzi's expression darken.

"You didn't want to."

"Mating's an obligation. It doesn't matter if I _want _to." He stopped his caresses suddenly and leaned over Nitro's shoulder. "You said something the other day…night…" Uzi had to be losing track of time, just as N'tho was. "You said that mounting a male…couldn't be that much different than a female. Nitro…have you never…" He swallowed. "Was I the first one, male or female, that you _ever_ mounted?"

'Sraom pointed wordlessly to the Mark of Punishment.

"Bad genetics, what nonsense," Usze muttered. "Look at you; you're breathtaking. Look at your _body_," he said, running his hands down the sides of the body in question, visibly drooling. "It's a crime against the species, is what it is, that there isn't a whole keep of little Nitros…"

"You want to share me with a pack of females?" Nitro asked dryly, and when Usze suddenly looked shocked, then clutched him possessively with a reflexive growl, N'tho couldn't help but laugh. Uzi was so very, very jealous!

"It shouldn't matter…if I liked the thought…" Uzi said, unconvincingly.

"Well, you've got my undivided attention," 'Sraom said, his voice husky. "Can I have yours again?" He took hold of 'Taham's hand and returned it to his bare flank. Usze purred and resumed his stroking; Nitro groaned, because the touch was good and yet it did not _satisfy._

"Yes, so, I was a youth just out of the Academy when I found myself assigned to a two months' stay in the Temple at Iruiru at the mercy of the High Priestess and her acolytes during breeding season." He sighed. "A whole two months, and new females in season every day. Some were better than others….but by the Rings, they were _merciless_, every one of them." He swallowed. "They taught me what they liked. They taught me how to excite, how to inflame, how to coax pleasure from another. They put me through their own brand of "training" and, were it not for the military demanding my presence at my first tour of duty, I might well be with them still." He shivered.

Nitro lapped at his mate's cheek, and the gesture evidently soothed Usze as he let his fingers make their way to the place where N'tho craved his touch the most.

"So you see, Nitro…when you told me to mate you like a female…this is what you were asking for. Because this is how I was taught to do it." He gently ran his finger over N'tho's body. "Very slow…very sweet…and in the end, you should be _very _satisfied."

*

They had been too tired in the end to even get up from the pile of pillows by the door. Usze, exhausted, was sleeping in a sprawl, his chest on one pillow, his head on another. N'tho lay awake, his throat raw from screaming, watching his…

Was _consort _the right word? No, he thought reluctantly. Not for a relationship that was post-mission sex, sparked by lust and battle strain, extended by the extreme isolation of their circumstances from one encounter into several.

So why was he feeling so unsettled now? Why wasn't he basking in the afterglow now that he'd gotten what he'd wanted? Usze certainly was. N'tho allowed himself a small, sad smile as he watched Usze grin and purr in his sleep as he nestled close. He'd never seen the Blademaster look so contented before.

By the Ancestors, N'tho was going to _miss _'Taham when this encounter reached its inevitable end. What had gone wrong? Sex was just…just sex, a pleasing thing like a morsel of delicious meat. A pleasurable treat between two warriors who wanted the same thing. His partners had always treated him casually, and he had come to think the same of them. Who mourned the last piece of meat in a bowl when there were other bowls for the having?

It was time to be honest with himself: there was nobody else like Uzi. Most of the time his lovers just wanted to satisfy their own needs. He'd learned to climax quickly; he had to get his satisfaction while he had the chance. Usze, on the other hand, seemed to take a particular delight in spoiling him rotten.

But now he felt hollow and desperate at the thought of losing Uzi.

He should never have mounted Usze. That was his mistake. And he could have asked Usze to hurry up during the last encounter, instead of glutting himself on the decadent pleasures the Blademaster had offered him.

It had to be new experiences that threw him this way. How long had it taken to get his mind off the Arbiter?

_As long as it took Uzi to start being interesting._

N'tho didn't like the implications of that thought. Uzi should not have been that interesting. Usze had still been acting like a jerk then. Uzi had slept on the floor in Crow's Nest rather than share the bunk with him…and yet N'tho had been so happy to wake up in Usze's bed and think he'd gotten it on with the Blademaster when he'd been drunk off that screech…

…and it had just gotten better in the days to come. The touching, the teasing. The secrets they shared: his Mark of Punishment, Usze's scars. The laughing, the jokes, the little games. The two of them guarding one another in their moments of vulnerability. Usze taking care of him, first out of bed, then in…

_Oh, shit. You don't love him, do you?_

Impossible. It was battle stress, that was all. It was the extreme trauma caused by the circumstances on the Omega Halo. Fighting for the fate of all life in the universe—the stakes couldn't be higher. No wonder he was traumatized. No wonder he was starting to behave erratically now, and do stupid things, like thinking he was in love with Usze 'Taham. Hell, 'Taham was being stupid too. Any minute now, 'Taham would wake up and remember he didn't like males, and their encounter would be written off as a stress-related aberration. Usze would return to the cool detachment of an Ascetic, with no sexual encounters save the occasional breeding season, and N'tho would return to…to stooping for any male in the fleet…

N'tho buried his face in his pillow and wept.

He didn't want to be the SpecOps slut, the way he was in the 812th Assault Unit. He didn't want to go back to one-night stands. He wanted…he wanted _Uzi_.

N'tho 'Sraom didn't care how shameful his tears might be. There was no one around to see. He let himself cry, as long and as loud as he wanted, in the hopes that by the time Uzi woke up, his tears would have run dry.


	11. Chapter 12: Beginning's End

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Twelfth: Beginning's End**

Usze 'Taham sighed regretfully.

He was once again blinking the sleep out of his eyes while lying curled up with N'tho 'Sraom. The SpecOps Sangheili was still deeply asleep, breathing softly, his mandibles wearing a smile of pure contentment. It was wonderfully warm next to him; Usze loved feeling his partner's velvet hide caressing his own skin, and he could quite happily lie here all day…

…or, more honestly, lie here until Nitro woke up and started to touch him, and the next thing they know, they'd spend the entire day mating and feeding one another bits of meat and whispering conversations while holding one another and then mating all over again.

That was what had happened yesterday, and Usze wanted to do it again. But he had surely indulged himself more than enough.

Sooner or later the humans were going to get concerned that the Sangheili weren't coming out of their room. They might stop delivering the bowls of delicious food, too. Most importantly, Usze had to contact the Fleet, get new orders, and start doing his job. The Arbiter was meeting with Lord Hood today, and he needed at least one of his honour guards there. Uzi couldn't just spend the rest of his life nuzzled up to N'tho 'Sraom.

Regretfully, 'Taham climbed out of the bed.

Behind him, N'tho stirred, whimpering. Usze took his warm pillow and tucked it against Nitro. The SpecOps warrior nuzzled into it, breathing in its scent. It clearly smelled like Usze, because Nitro's grin widened and he started to purr.

There was a time when Uzi would have kicked Nitro out of bed, none too gently, and told him to get ready to work. Now, though, Usze decided to leave N'tho sleeping. The SpecOps warrior needed to recover from his eye injury, and he needed more rest; Usze suspected N'tho had endured some hard living in his life, and he deserved some time to recuperate.

Usze had to force himself into the tub for a quick wash. He put on his bodysuit, which, though he and Nitro had managed to wash their clothing, was tattered and generally unserviceable. He would have to ask Fil Storamee to send him a new one in the next Sangheili ship arriving on Earth.

That might be a while—particularly considering Fil's argumentative temper—so Usze slipped into the suit he had and armoured up. His armour was also scratched and dented and damaged, but he ought to be able to do most of those repairs himself. Finally he picked up the helmet, though he hesitated before he put it on.

Usze picked up Nitro's comm unit and entered a quick message.

Gone to Work

Then he hesitated.

_Thanks for the good time_? No, he couldn't put that. The idiots who'd used Nitro for entertainment would write a thing like that.

_See you tonight_? That wasn't appropriate either. Usze knew what he had to do today—get Nitro his own room, and see about Nitro's transportation back to SpecOps. It was time to start letting go, because sooner or later Rtas 'Vadum would want his warrior back.

He'd had…it was longer than a one-night stand. It was a post-battle coupling. Now it was over. Normal life was about to resume.

Uzi had no words for how Nitro had made him feel. He tried anyway.

Nitro

Gone to Work

Take Care, my Dear Hero.

Uzi

*

N'tho woke up, blinking sleepily, churning his mandibles—then realized with a start that Usze was gone. He was snuggled up with Uzi's pillow, not Uzi himself.

His datapad was lying where Usze's pillow had been.

N'tho felt his mandibles quiver as he picked up the pad and read the message. It was heartwarming to have a lover who had some courtesy and some class…. Nevertheless, N'tho read a goodbye in between the lines.

Biting back his sobs—because he knew these things didn't last—N'tho got up and began dressing himself. He would not think about how empty it would feel to go back to SpecOps. He would savour the warm feeling of a tender partner as long as he could.

N'tho 'Sraom let that feeling carry him through the day as the doctors removed the patch on his eye. His vision would likely be unaffected, for which he was grateful. He traded in his tattered bodysuit for the only thing the quartermaster could find that would fit a Sangheili of his size: a pair of cammo printed combat pants, cut off at N'tho's knees to allow for his feet to go through, and a sleeveless grey shirt that read ARMY. He spent some time with the surviving Marines with whom he'd fought, and attended a memorial service in the base chapel for those who'd fallen in battle.

But when he'd run out of errands to occupy his mind, he found himself wandering the corridors of the base, aimlessly meandering…

…no, not aimlessly. He was spending a disproportionate amount of time in the control rooms, the officers' lounges, the command and control building. Places Uzi was likely to be.

Cursing himself for a fool—because there was no sign of the Blademaster and because he could not spend his life following 'Taham around like a Grunt—he stepped into the garage, vowing to busy himself learning more about Human vehicles.

The door shut behind him with a bang and from across the garage, N'tho saw a claret-armoured head turn to look at him.

_Uzi._

Their gazes locked. N'tho felt both his hearts speed up. Usze's hands were quivering in a way N'tho remembered very, very well. His good intentions to find something constructive to do evaporated. The electricity between them was palpable; suddenly the room seemed very small and hot, but the distance between them so large…

Nitro pounced, crossing the space with lightning speed until he was right beside the other Sangheili. "Hey, how do you like the new outfit?"

Usze 'Taham apparently had nothing to say at the sight of a SpecOps commando dressed in human clothing. He looked a little worried, a little surprised, but all the old Blademaster attitude was nowhere to be seen. The old Usze 'Taham would have folded his arms and lifted his snout and said something cutting and cruel; the new Uzi stood frozen as Nitro got right up in his personal space and put his right hand over Usze's left heart.

Nitro could feel the pulse hammering below the skin; Uzi's hide was blazing hot. He felt a sudden relief to realize that under that helmet, Usze was more than just a little happy to see him.

He took Usze's right hand in his left and put it over his left heart, letting Usze feel that he was just as excited, just as hot.

Then he took a step nearer, placing his muzzle under 'Taham's, wishing Uzi would get rid of the closed helmet so he could tuck his mandibles under the Blademaster's. Their bodies pressed together; N'tho felt Uzi's armour plates scraping through his thin shirt.

It felt good…unspeakably good. Too good to stop, even though N'tho knew better, even though Usze probably knew better as well.

Usze wasn't stopping him.

Nitro closed his eyes, summoning courage to press his thigh between Usze's legs. Oh, by the Rings, the other male was more than just a little aroused. The knowledge gave Nitro the courage he needed to rub suggestively against the Blademaster, because he was sure that 'Taham's control would crumble with just a little help….

Usze groaned. "Nitro. Are you telling me you want to…"

N'tho grabbed his partner's hand, rested it against his thigh, then nudged it upwards. "Feel for yourself what I want," Nitro whispered. "Then tell me, Uzi, what do _you_ want?"

Usze's voice stuttered as though he struggled for words. "I want you…" he managed.

"You want me to do what?" N'tho asked with a grin.

"Mate with me," Usze whispered.

"Well," N'tho replied, running his tongue over 'Taham's throat, "I think that would be a very nice thing to do…we should get rid of this armour, shouldn't we?"

Usze turned his head away, looking down at the floor. "I want…"

N'tho caught Usze's head in his hands, guiding his lover back to look at him. Impatient, he popped the seal on the helmet and tossed it aside. Usze stood, transfixed, mandibles quivering…then, in submission, Usze closed his eyes. "I want you to mount me again," he said, stumbling over the words.

Nitro released his grip on Usze in surprise—then he started pulling at Uzi's lower body armor with hands trembling from anticipation. To hell with the jumpsuit! It unzipped in the crotch area for elimination purposes. That was going to be more than good enough for this purpose.

'Taham was still not looking as he whispered, "Are you shocked? Disgusted? Bored?"

"What I am," Nitro replied softly, "is hot. Get ready."

Usze's eyes flew open, widening as he watched N'tho undo the fly on his new pants. His expression was mostly shocked, though he could not seem to stop himself from checking out his partner "But…we're in the middle of the garage!"

N'tho pressed against him insistently. "Can you wait until we make it back to your quarters?" He started nibbling Uzi's neck. "I don't think I can…" He started unzipping the bottom of Usze's suit as soon as his hands could reach.

Usze whimpered. "You want me to get down on my knees…here…on the greasy floor…" He was panting. He looked horrified. But he was not pushing N'tho away.

"Of course not," Nitro murmured with a naughty smile. "I want you bent over the hood of the nearest Warthog."

*

Nitro tried to be dignified as he buttoned his pants back up. Tried to play cool and suave, like so many of the males he'd had—the ones who'd stand up when it was over, and smile and nod and straighten their armour and stroll out looking very pleased with themselves. It would impress Usze for sure if Nitro was able to act like a proud warrior and not a cringing little slut.

But as Nitro was trying to decide what witty quip to use—many of his previous mates had been fond of "carry on, soldier" though he'd always preferred to hear "thank you"—his gaze fell on Usze and he realized that the Blademaster would probably not even register his words.

Usze was still struggling to fasten his jumpsuit, his face purpled, his eyes not quite teary but definitely watery. His hand was shaking so much he could not draw the zip. He was crouching, hunched-over as if hoping the world would disappear.

And oh, Nitro knew the feeling, but he'd experienced it when the encounter had been bad: when his mate had been rough or cruel, or when he'd finally gone to bed with someone he thought might care for him, only to find out the next morning that he'd just been a night's entertainment.

The Blademaster was more than entertainment as far as Nitro was concerned.

N'tho knelt down beside Usze and took the Blademaster's hands in his own, in a way none of his former mates had ever done for him. "Hey," he said gently, "are you all right?"

Usze blinked away the moisture in his eyes and scowled.

Nitro didn't buy the glare for a second and it faded as quickly as it arrived. "Nitro," Uzi whispered, his mandibles quaking as if he could not speak.

N'tho helped him zip up his suit and reattach his armour, but when he picked up the Blademaster's helmet, he kept it in his own hand. "Let's go back to your room and talk, okay?"

Usze nodded. Nitro held out his arm. Usze cocked his head skeptically.

"If anyone asks," Nitro said, "it's your sprained leg from the Halo mission, acting up."

Usze nodded, put his head on Nitro's shoulder, and let the SpecOps warrior wrap his other arm around his back. Together they made their way back to the privacy of Uzi's quarters.

*

Nitro guided Usze to the couch.

The bed was very, very tempting, but 'Sraom knew exactly what would happen if he put Usze in the bed. Having his full body pressed up against 'Taham's would lead to another round of sex that would doubtlessly feel great, but fail to solve the problems at hand.

The Blademaster collapsed heavily onto the cushions. N'tho curled up beside him, close enough to be supportive, far enough away that Usze would not mistake his attentions for an invitation to mate again.

"Tell me what's wrong," N'tho murmured, his voice quivering, because it was frightening when Usze's eyes frosted over with that cold Ascetic ice, putting up fortifications that not only kept the rest of the world out, but also buried his own heart under a bulwark of obligations, commandments, and rituals.

"What's wrong?" Usze snapped. "I'm addicted, that's what's wrong!" His hand shot out and grasped N'tho's so tightly it hurt.

"Is that so bad?" Nitro dared to bunt the tip of his muzzle gently against Uzi's. Thank the Ancestors; he'd much rather have Usze glaring fire at him than retreating inwards. "I'm right here, Uzi…"

"Yes, you like your sex, don't you?" 'Taham was alrady threatening to withdraw back into that dry, sarcastic, slightly cruel shell again.

"I like this, too," N'tho whispered.

"You like what?"

"This." N'tho looked down to where his hand and Usze's were locked together, then back up at his partner. He watched an expression of surprise dawn on Uzi's face. "You didn't know you did that, did you."

"I…did…"

"You've been holding my hand ever since we sat down."

"I started it?"

Nitro didn't even try to hide his grin. "Yes you did."

'Taham closed his eyes as though in pain. "I'm losing control, Nitro. Do you understand the problem? I might have been too cold before, too distant, but this is rapidly heading towards the opposite extreme. You come along and I can't keep my own clothes on. I drop to my knees and debase myself begging for your touch. I can't even walk afterwards without you to lean on. At this rate I'm going to be completely dependent and utterly useless."

"So that incident in the hangar…you'd have bent over that Hog for the next Sangheili who came along? No matter who it was?" N'tho murmured.

Usze's eyes flew open in a look of shock. "Don't be disgusting—of course not!"

N'tho shrugged. "So how is it the opposite extreme, then? Last I saw you were still being cool, controlled, arrogant, and only slightly less snotty to everyone who wasn't me. I'm probably the only one who's even noticed that anything's changed."

"Well….Marine Cyr did say I was more tolerable today."  
"Change for the better, then."

"So you're arguing that my problem is you. I knew that from the second we both ended up on the Arbiter's honour guard!"

"Yeah," Nitro growled back, "kind of like how _my_ problem is _you_, you stubborn bastard. Why don't you just shut up and be happy?"

Usze's mandibles churned, but he had apparently run out of things to say. He let out a slow breath. "I feel…uneasy. Things are changing. Perhaps too fast."

"When that mission ended, you asked me if I wanted to share something special with you. Remember?"

Usze nodded.

"Well," N'tho replied, swallowing to moisten his suddenly dry throat, "maybe we're just not done with that yet."

Usze nodded again. "You're right. I don't think we are." Perhaps N'tho was imagining it, but he thought he caught Uzi staring at his chest through the thin fabric of the human shirt. "What does this make us?"

"Make us?"

"Are we, you know, are we consorts now?"

N'tho swallowed. "I don't think it works that way. I think one of us has to ask the other. I mean, that's a commitment. You can't just presume another person is willing to agree to it."

"It's got fewer obligations than a ceremonial bonding."

"Just because a consort arrangement can be terminated doesn't mean it doesn't carry a certain degree of faithfulness."

The Blademaster was silent for a while, thinking it over. "I don't think that I am the consort type," Usze said quietly.

N'tho leaned his head against Usze's shoulder and closed his eyes. "Me neither. That's one of my few, but strict, standards," he said, his eyes still shut. "Right along with "don't cross the species line."

Usze stroked N'tho's chest through his new shirt. "What's this now about consorts and standards?"

"Well, you know Epse 'Gamul and Rycl 'Osted? Rycl is Epse's consort, but Epse's never made any kind of commitment in return. That means Epse can fuck anyone he pleases, but Rycl's in trouble if he mates with anyone who isn't Epse."

"Like you."

"Yeah." N'tho opened his eyelids a crack. "I want you to know that another one of my standards is not to mate with Sangheili who have consorts or bondmates or wives or whatever, and if I'd have known that about Rycl, I wouldn't have done it." He licked his mandibles. "Maybe I should've, y'know, _asked_, or…or gotten to know something about him from other people first, and not been stupidly impulsive and half drunk at the time but…" He sighed. "I'm not making this any better, am I?"

Usze simply held him closer, soothing him with gentle touches. Every caress reminded N'tho that Uzi was not rejecting him for the sins in his past. Usze murmured, "Why don't you take it back to this…dynamic…between Rycl and Epse. It seems very one-sided."

"Yeah. It is."

"Why would anyone agree to that sort of relationship?"

N'tho shrugged. "You want my guess? I think Rycl loves Epse…or did at one time…or thought he did…but 'Gamul's a possessive son of a Brute. He wants Rycl to belong to him. I think Rycl got tired of being 'Gamul's property, and if you ask me, I bet 'Gamul doesn't care too much about making Rycl happy. Rycl wanted to be on the other side for a change, and that night he was in the bar, drunk and upset and depressed, and when I came along, he saw an opportunity and took it. I'll bet you my sword that 'Gamul's made him pay for it, but that's not enough…'Gamul's got to make me pay too. Make a lesson of me, so everyone else knows to keep their claws off 'Gamul's property."

"Not love. Ownership."

"Yeah." N'tho kicked his foot idly. "Which is why I said I'd never be someone's consort. I might be easy, but I'm not anyone's slave, and I'm not going to pledge fidelity to someone who gives me nothing in return."

"Nitro." Usze licked his mandibles; they parted and then he seemed to reconsider what he was about to say. Instead he reached into the storage compartment in his thigh armour and pulled out two cards. He faced Nitro with a card in each hand and waved the one on the right. "This is a passkey to your own personal quarters. They're down the hall from mine." He closed his fingers around it instead of handing it to Nitro. "This," he said, indicating the second card, "is a passkey to this room we're in now." Then he held both out to Nitro. "Which would you like?"

N'tho bit his mandibles, trying to guess the right answer. "If I pick the second one, does that mean you're sleeping in the first room?"

"No, it would, ah…"

"It would mean I'm sleeping in your room," N'tho clarified.

"Well, if you were sleeping in it too, it would be _our _room…" Usze looked awkward, stumbling over his words and scratching at his armour, and N'tho couldn't help but smile. Uzi scowled. "Stop grinning at me, you jerk."

"Our room," N'tho repeated softly. "Not just yours with me in it."

"You just gave me that lecture about one-sided dynamics, which I happened to agree with."

N'tho lunged for the second passkey. His hand closed around it, but Uzi didn't let go of it, and they ended up muzzle to muzzle with their fingertips touching across the smooth surface of the card. "I want to sleep in our room."

"I wonder," Usze murmured, "will I ever get to sleep…"

"Sure," N'tho grinned. "You just have to wear me out first."


	12. Chapter 13: Renegade's Blade

**Author's Note:** Chapter 12 was originally supposed to be the end of the story, but when I began my edits, I realized that there was more that needed to be told.

In addition to Usze's unsettled disagreement with Fil Storamee and the as-yet-unsolved-mystery of just_ who_ put up those naughty pictures and video of N'tho on the public BattleNet—and the fact that this individual is still out there with an axe to grind—my major reason for continuing the story had to do with believability. Simply put, I couldn't believe that a few days of great sex could erase Usze and N'tho's past actions or absolve them of the consequences of their choices, so I doubted my readers would find this kind of ending believable either. I felt that I was cheating my characters by pretending they lived happily ever from the end of Chapter 12.

Usze's no longer acting in a manner befitting an Ascetic, and considering how demanding and repressive the Order is, I couldn't imagine them taking well to the idea that he wants to quit. Similarly, N'tho's self-confidence issues…and habit of looking for love in all the wrong places…aren't going to magically go away just because he's got a boyfriend(?). Both Usze and N'tho have made bad decisions in their past and the inevitable consequences of those decisions have yet to come full circle.

So, the second half of Cross Blades was a necessity in my mind. However, I want readers to be aware that the second half is darker than the first, and contains themes of captivity, torture, and non-consensual sexual behaviour, despite the fact that the version is less explicit the version. None of these things are depicted as desirable or appealing, but if you still do not wish to encounter them, you'll want to stop reading after Chapter 12. Same goes for anyone who wants a fairytale ending…

However, I hope most of my readers will choose to stay with the story. I began this tale with a mandate to write characters who had authentic personalities, who could be appealing even though they were deeply flawed, who would make mistakes and struggle to come to terms with their relationships and themselves. I felt I had to end it the same way.

So begins the second part of…

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Thirteenth: Renegade's Blade**

N'tho tried his best to convince Usze to stay in bed the next morning, but the Blademaster was insistent—he had some business in town that could not wait, and he was depending on Perez to give him a ride in a Warthog. N'tho had noticed with great amusement that Uzi's cheeks turned purple every time he said the word "Warthog." Nitro had still been laughing when Usze, still scowling, stalked out.

Now N'tho had bathed and dressed and was hanging around in the room he shared with Usze, idle and bored. He stared at the clock in his room, watching the numbers change. There was still a lot of number-changing left to do before the mess hall would open for lunch; N'tho was rarely hungry before evening, but he enjoyed the company of the Marines, and he was rapidly growing accustomed to the taste of coffee. He didn't think he'd ever grow accustomed, though, to the Human penchant for cold drinks. Just the thought of icy liquid sliding down his throat made him shudder. What was the appeal?

Desperate for something to do, N'tho began sorting through his armour plates, polishing them as he went. The helmet was pretty good, the chest plates needed work, the right thigh piece wasn't even worth cleaning… N'tho pried open the storage compartment to see if there was anything worthwhile inside it and discovered his comm link in there, still functional.

Condemnation! He hadn't looked at the thing since the Halo mission. He hadn't even turned it on.

He flipped it on now. There were two messages in his inbox.

TO: N'tho 'Sraom

FROM: Zhaal 'Lymuxee

RE: The Ark

Meet up with me when you come back to the fleet. We can finish what we started on the Ark.

I hope 'Taham rots in hell.

Zhaal

N'tho frowned as he realized that nobody on the fleet had any idea of what had gone on between himself and Usze in the past few days. He ran a search on the name "Zhaal" and had his suspicions confirmed: Zhaal had been the Major Domo with Ki 'Chaz in the Phantom on the Ark. N'tho made a note to avoid Zhaal when he returned to _Shadow of Intent_; he didn't want to be the first to tell the sexually aggressive Major Domo that he was no longer in the market for another casual mate.

The other message was simple:

TO: N'tho 'Sraom

FROM: The Arbiter (Thel 'Vadam)

RE: Recall

Following the memorial service tomorrow, we will be returning to Sanghelios.

You will be resuming your prior position as a SpecOps Minor Domo.

Thank you for your exempliary service as my Honour Guard. Your conduct has been noted on your record.

You are to report to Admiral Rtas 'Vadum tomorrow at noon local time.

The Arbiter

N'tho felt a bolt rush through him as he realized the message had been sent yesterday. He'd been so busy fooling around with Uzi that he'd left the unit turned off in order to avoid distraction. The "off" feature was designed for combat, when transmissions could give away his position. He'd have been in real trouble if he'd been caught abusing the feature. Any relief at dodging that bullet was washed away by his fears about the Arbiter's message.

Last night had been his last night on Earth. He only got one night to share a room with Uzi? Where was the justice in that?

Then his hearts begam to pound as another thought occurred to him.

Was Uzi coming to the fleet too?

N'tho quickly dialed in Usze's live transmission coordinates. There was a buzzing sound indicating that Usze was accepting live transmissions; then Uzi's voice came over the device. "Blademaster 'Taham."

"Uzi?"

"Yes?" 'Taham sounded like he was doing his best not to be irritated.

"It's Nitro. Did you get recalled to the fleet?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. N'tho felt a sudden panic that the Arbiter had decided to leave Usze here, as an Ambassador to the Humans.

'Taham spoke at last. "Yes."

N'tho let the air rush out of his lungs following the incredible feeling of relief. "Me too. So, I'll see you on _Shadow of Intent_, hm?"

This time the pause was longer.

"I…I'm going to have some business to settle, Nitro. Ascetic business. I don't know how long it'll keep me…"

Usze's voice sounded strange. Strained. N'tho didn't feel comfortable declaring Usze a liar, but he could guess there was something the Blademaster wasn't telling him.

"Uzi? What is it?" N'tho wished he was able to look 'Taham in the eye instead of trying to guess what his expression might be.

"It might be a long time." Uzi's words were strangled now, coming out tight and fast. "Take care of yourself, my hero."

The transmission cut.

Nitro stared at his comm unit, unable to explain the sudden premonition of disaster he felt creeping down his spine.

*

Usze sat in the passenger seat of the Warthog as it sped towards the shadow of the massive Covenant carrier, with Marine Mbeki at the wheel. His trip in town had been cut short, though he'd gotten what he'd gone for. He wasn't sure if he'd ever have a chance to use it now, though he turned the simple grey box over and over again in his hands.

He wondered if he'd ever see N'tho again.

The Humans had offered him a ride back to _Shadow of Intent_ in a Pelican, but Usze had declined, claiming that he did not mind using _Shadow of Intent_'s grav lift. This was only a partial truth; Usze needed every second of the drive to come to terms with what lay before him.

Mbeki could not read the Covenant script on the datapad on his lap. He had received the message shortly after he arrived in the town, and now he stared down at his comm unit and the message on its screen, thinking there had to be some mistake.

He ran the decryption key over and over. He verified the sender time and time again. He read and reread his own address. He sent authentication requests, one after another, and watched them all come back positive. He rebooted the unit, ran the anti-tampering program, and opened his mailbox again.

The message was still there. It was still addressed to him. It was still from the Ascetic Temple on Sanghelios, transmitted via a Slipspace drone satellite. It still passed authentication. And it still said the same thing:

_Kill The Arbiter_

*

Somewhere on Earth, the Arbiter was attending the Humans' memorial service with Lord Hood. Above, aboard _Shadow of Intent_, N'tho 'Sraom entered Rtas 'Vadum's office.

"Welcome back," Rtas said as he returned N'tho's salute. "Congratulations on your performance. The Arbiter has returned a very favourable report on you, Minor Domo. We are considering how best to reward you, but know this, you will be receiving due notice for your accomplishments." He stroked his remaining jaws. "I am now trying to decide where you would fit best on this ship."

N'tho blinked. "I'm not staying as the Arbiter's honour guard? Me and Uzi…I mean, the Blademaster?"

Rtas frowned. "When you and 'Taham were assigned to act as the Arbiter's honour guard, it was a last minute decision made out of necessity. It was never intended to be permanent. After all, you'd only just arrived in SpecOps, and as for 'Taham, well, suffice it to say he has a history of turning down ceremonial positions." He stroked his mandibles. "I am hesitant to send you back to SpecOps now that Rycl 'Otsed is the new SpecOps commander. Rycl is a very capable soldier but I do not think he…or the Shipmaster…will be able to forgive and forget."

Nitro could not hide his face from falling. Rtas saw the expression; his next words made it clear that he knew the whole story about N'tho's run-in with Rycl and Epse.

"You should steer clear of Shipmaster 'Gamul. I have evidence suggesting that he was the one who put those pictures of you on the BattleNet."

N'tho's jaws gaped. "The Shipmaster did that?"

"Do yourself a favour, 'Sraom, and stop getting on the bad side of your superiors. 'Taham, 'Otsed, 'Gamul…you're setting a dangerous precident."

"'Taham?" Nitro repeated stupidly.

"Don't worry about 'Taham. I doubt you'll be seeing him again."

Nitro felt sick. "I won't?"

"No, that one's been settled. You don't need to worry about the Blademaster any more." He tilted his head. "Don't look so surprised, 'Sraom. I'm well aware of the animosity between the two of you."

N'tho's mandibles quivered as he realized just how little Rtas and the Arbiter understood what had happened between himself and Usze in the short time that they had been the Arbiter's honour guard.

"Where is he?"

Rtas narrowed his eyes curiously. "I received a communication from Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin's flagship claiming that Usze 'Taham had caught a ride on one of our supply ships and is en route for the Ascetic Temple on Sanghelios."

N'tho bowed his head, uncertain how to phrase his request. "With all due respect, sir, that's not right. 'Taham got a ride from the Humans to _Shadow of Intent_ earlier this morning. I know, because Private Mbeki told me when she gave me the same ride two hours later, from the base to _Shadow_'s grav lift. And, sir, if you see Usze, please let him know I really want to talk to him, because…" His voice broke.

Something was very wrong. Usze was nowhere to be found. Even Rtas didn't know where he was. N'tho was getting a sickening feeling that it was something to do with him. "Because I have a lot of things I need to tell him," N'tho finished.

"I can pass on a message, if a comm is not sufficient."

"Personal things. Sir." 'Sraom flushed. "You understand…right, sir?"

'Vadum tilted his head skeptically. "I thought you didn't get along with 'Taham."

"We…came to an understanding during the last of the Halo mission."

"I thought 'Taham didn't get along with you," Rtas said more bluntly.

N'tho would not succumb to paranoia or despair. He had to defend Uzi in front of Rtas. "When you see him, sir," N'tho said, "you can ask him yourself."

*

Usze 'Taham melted into the shadows along the corridor. If the crew of _Shadow of Intent had _fallen for the Ascetics' ruse, they would all believe that he was on his way back to Sanghelios to the Ascetic Temple.

Catching the Arbiter alone was going to be a lot more difficult considering that the Arbiter spent his nights in Rtas 'Vadum's stateroom. Confronting the Arbiter would be challenge enough; confronting the Arbiter and 'Vadum together would be suicide. As a result, Usze had forced himself to be patient.

He'd started by finding a quiet, neglected area in the storage hold and constructing a makeshift shelter using an old missile crate and some blankets he scavenged. It would give him a place to conceal himself while he slept; only Huragok ever visited the area, and Huragok kept their secrets well.

In his new lair, he commed the Ascetic Temple and received a response before _Shadow of Intent_ entered Slipspace.

He could no longer hope that his orders were an error. The Ascetics wanted to remove the Arbiter from power and install Imperial Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin as the new head of state. 'Jar Wattin's vision more closely matched their own: a Sanghelios where the powerful reveled in their power, and those who did not ascend in rank were beaten into the dust for their failures.

And Usze 'Taham was the blade of the Ascetics.

Now, as _Shadow of Intent_ travelled through Slipspace, Usze watched as Rtas 'Vadum left his stateroom and headed for the bridge. He seemed preoccupied, holding a data pad in his hand and muttering to himself. Usze knew his opportunity had arrived. 'Taham, fully cloaked, stuck out his hand to catch the door before it locked. 'Vadum did not notice.

The Blademaster pried open the door and stepped inside.

In the bunk, the Arbiter was still sleeping. His ceremonial armour and his sword rested on the desk beside the bed; his jumpsuit hung off the back of a chair. Usze closed the door behind him, certain it had locked, and moved forwards.

He could smell the musky scent of lovemaking in the air and guessed what the Arbiter and Rtas had been doing in the hours before. It made him think of Nitro; his hearts clenched. Usze tried to shake off the feeling and concentrate. He was walking into a predator's den where any misstep could be fatal.

Usze stood over the bed, looking down at the Arbiter.

The Arbiter stirred, sniffing. He had caught Usze's scent. His eyes flew open.

Usze decloaked.

The Arbiter startled—Usze could see it in his eyes—but to his credit, though he had been caught by surprise, he sat up swiftly yet gracefully. "Blademaster. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I received this message." Usze activated his comm unit and passed it to the Arbiter. He watched the Arbiter's eyes widen as he read the message on the screen.

"If this is accurate…" The Arbiter's expression hardened as he turned his face to 'Taham's. "Are you going to follow this order, then? Do you seek a duel?"

"No."

The Arbiter tilted his head in a gesture of inquiry.

"If I intended to follow that order, one of us would already be dead. Had I chosen to duel, it would probably be me. Had I simply struck from the shadows…well…" Usze let his voice trail off. He was fairly certain he could have taken the Arbiter if he had exploited the element of surprise quickly enough, but he didn't want to offend the other Sangheili by saying so.

"Then why have you come sneaking into my quarters by night?"

"I am here to dishonour myself." 'Taham dropped to his knees and hung his head, trusting the Arbiter not to simply reach for his blade and decapitate him. "To break my vows. To go against the orders of the Ascetics and deliberately fail to kill you. And, furthermore, to warn you: they plot your death, and that of Admiral 'Vadum and your supporters, as well."

"Rise."

Usze rose.

"Sit."

'Taham obeyed, sitting in the desk chair. The Arbiter rose to his feet, apparently unconcerned about his nakedness, though he did grab up a doarmir-fur cloak and fasten it around his shoulders, as if he knew Usze was uncomfortable under the face-concealing helmet. The Arbiter's cloak was a flamboyant shade of purple, and when it swirled open, it served only to emphasize rather than hide the Arbiter's bare physique. The Arbiter, graciously, held it closed in his left hand.

The Arbiter was a very fine figure of a Sangheili, and Usze could see now what Rtas saw in him, but Usze would never trade N'tho for the Arbiter.

"The Ascetics are philosophers, administrators, governors," the Arbiter mused, "but not warriors. With Rtas at my side, how can they overthrow me?"

"They have formed an alliance with Imperial Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin."

The Arbiter allowed his face to show his dismay. "A mutiny?"

"A coup," Usze agreed.

"They entrusted you to kill me. To send us into disarray, so they might take over."

"Yes. I am to kill you before _Shadow of Intent_ reaches Sanghelios."

"A suicide mission?"

"No. They are sending a ship to pick me up…I presume the same ship that will bring 'Jar Wattin here to take command from Rtas."

"So 'Jar Wattin will duel Rtas, but not myself."

"He must know you two would fight together." Usze frowned. "He must have at least one ally on this ship."

"And when we reach Sanghelios and I am still alive…"

"They will know I failed."

The Arbiter frowned. "One thing confuses me in all this, Blademaster 'Taham. Your records make it clear: you are the closest to an ideal Ascetic that I have ever seen. And yet, you betray the Order so easily. I would not have thought it of you, and I do not understand."

"It is the Order," Usze says, "that threatens to betray Sanghelios."

The Arbiter stroked his mandibles. "Continue."

"The Ascetic Order has long claimed to hold the soul of Sangheili culture. Now that the Prophets are gone, and the old ways have proven false, the Ascetics are rising, saying they have sheltered the spiritual heart of our people through the ages of alien rule. But I say now that we cannot revert to our old sins. We must become something new—something stronger.

"I have read my history, Arbiter. I know that long before the Prophets came, we Sangheili cherished our honour above all else. I know that we fought amongst ourselves, clan against clan, warrior against warrior. We had a planet capable of supporting twice our number, but instead we fought to take one another's keeps and mates and food and ships. We said the fighting made us strong—weeded out the weak—left only the powerful to breed. But I wonder, now, whether we were mistaken.

"When we first met the San 'Shyuum, we fought a grueling war with them, a war that neither side could win. We had strength and skill; they had Forerunner technology. We fought to a deadlock and made the devil's bargain that gave the Prophets leadership over us in exchange for keeping our honour as warriors. But Arbiter…what would have happened had the Sangheili not been fighting to the death amongst themselves for generations?

"What use is it for us to trade the Prophets for a new master? What will we do now—resume our ancient tribal conflicts and make ourselves prey for the next threat that comes along? Or learn from what the Prophets have taught us—that we are stronger as a united whole—and continue to learn, to change, to evolve, to seek to make ourselves better?

"I ask you now, what would have happened if those who had fallen to one another's jealousies, one another's greed, had survived to take up swords against the Prophets? What would have happened if we had broken our oath and refused to make war on the Humans? For years we wondered why the Humans were not permitted to join the Covenant, why they had to be exterminated, but we never voiced that question, and we never challenged the Prophets' right to control us! What kind of honour did we gain from averting our eyes and refusing to see the truth?"

"We cannot answer those questions," the Arbiter replied, his eyes glinting. "We cannot guess the course that history might have taken."

"It is more productive to look to the future," 'Taham agreed, "considering that the Ascetics aim to take us back to our ancient roots. I argue now those roots will do us more harm than good. What we call "honour" is a selfishness—you know that more than most."

The Arbiter's mandibles gaped dangerously. "Explain yourself."

"When Tartarus burned that Mark of Shame into your hide," 'Taham dared to say, "you wished to be dead, did you not?"

The Arbiter's eyes shone menacingly.

"I would have, in your position. I would rather have died than live with the shame. Then the Prophets made you their Blade, dangling the promise of absolution before you to make you dance to their tune."

The Arbiter's jaws closed with a snap. "I do not need reminding of these things."

"Then consider another example. How about 'Sraom? Branded with a Mark of Punishment for something his grandfather did. His grandfather. Something entirely beyond his control, and yet he was made to suffer for it. How many with a Mark of Punishment take their own lives out of a sense of so-called honour? Why do our people consider suicide preferable to making amends? Why, if we are injured in battle, can we not seek medical care, so we can survive to bring our experience back to a later battlefield? Why are we called cowards if we draw our blades and put them away without drawing blood—as though we could never think better of our actions, or negotiate a peaceful solution?"

Usze slammed his fist into his palm. "I say that death is an easy way out. Living is far harder for those like 'Sraom who try to make their lives meaningful despite the revilement of others. Living is far harder for those like yourself who dare to take responsibility for a mistake and work to make it right. That is the true heart of Sanghelios—not a proud avarice that would lead us to prey on our own kind, like a snake swallowing its own tail, like a thornbeast devouring her own young. As long as we remain in love with death, we condemn ourselves."

The Arbiter tilted his head, considering. "You are not what I thought you were at all. Your philosophy, and mine, are much the same. It appears we have both learned much in our recent battles, and from our strange alliances." He smiled. "You have much to say about 'Sraom."

"He dared to live with his shame, and in that daring, saved my life on the Omega Halo."

"So you are grateful to him."

"As you should be as well. After all—had I died on the Halo—who would be in your room with you now? Someone perhaps less interested in debating philosophy, and more interested in spilling your guts across the floor."

The Arbiter's eyes narrowed. "Surely you do not believe that I am unfit to defeat assassins?" His hand hovered near the desk, prepared to grab his sword.

"I believe," Usze replied, "that you are indeed fit—as long as you see them coming."

The older Sangheili bowed his head. "You are correct, 'Taham. I did not foresee this eventuality."

"My blade is with you, Arbiter. For as long as I shall stand."

The Arbiter nodded, looking Usze 'Taham in the eyes.

They both knew it would not be long. Not once the Ascetics discovered that the Blademaster had betrayed them.


	13. Chapter 14: Habit's Chains

**Cross Blades**

**  
Chapter the Fourteenth: Habit's Chains**

"You can't go on like this," Piro 'Kipaz insisted as he paced the small cabin that he and N'tho shared. "Moping around. Not eating. Taking no interest in anything."

"Look," N'tho retorted, "unless you can get Shipmaster 'Gamul and SpecOps Commander 'Otsed to fuck off, I don't know what you expect me to do about it. Because I'm a Minor Domo, and they're ranking officers, and they're pushing their authority right up to the limits, and the Arbiter seems too preoccupied to rein them in." 'Kipaz looked at him, and there was something in Piro's expression, something very like hopelessness and helplessness, that gave N'tho pause. "They were here last night, weren't they?"

Piro nodded slowly. "It was Rycl 'Otsed. He wanted to know why you weren't here in your quarters."

N'tho sighed. "I was sleeping in Fil's stockroom again." He stared down into his lap. "'Gamul and 'Otsed don't dare try anything when I'm at work—too many witnesses. But they're just waiting for their chance to get me alone."

"Are you sleeping in the Quartermaster's stockroom tonight, too?"

"Can't. The place is starting to get my scent in it from all the time I've spent there, and Fil said her Grunts overheard Rycl talking to 'Gamul about it. I don't want Fil getting in trouble for my mistake." He toyed with his armour and wished for a distraction. "I'm going to have to find somewhere else to sleep so 'Gamul can't find me."

Piro flexed his mandibles. "The Arbiter asked for some volunteers from the 812th to go with him once we drop out of Slipspace tomorrow."

"Are you going?"

"No. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

N'tho shook his head. "Thanks, Piro, but…I can't really ask you to get in trouble for me either. You're not the one who mated with Rycl and you're not the reason 'Gamul is such a possessive son of a Brute."

"You are my…friend, N'tho. I will protect you with my life."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." N'tho hung his head, and asked, "You haven't seen the Blademaster, have you?"

"What is this business you have with the Blademaster, N'tho?" Piro asked.

N'tho, unable to hold back the tears any longer, told him.

*

Usze 'Taham, fully cloaked, sat in the shadows at the back of the hangar bay and watched N'tho 'Sraom shining his armour. He pressed "send" on his comm unit to transmit a message to the house of his mother and stepfather. His family would have to publically denounce him in order to escape his coming punishment. His message begged them to do it. He did not want them in the Ascetics' crosshairs.

There was a time when Usze himself would have been in full agreement with the Ascetics. Weed out the weak; keep the bloodlines strong. Crush the humans, the Unggoy, the Kig-Yar, the Yanme'e, for no other reason than because they could. Let the shamed be punished; let the lower castes earn their survival with servitude, or let them die as they deserved. Kill the moderate Arbiter and put the hardliner Xytan 'Jar Wattin in control of Sanghelios.

N'tho had changed all that.

Nitro did not deserve what had happened to him. He was a courageous warrior despite the fact that his grandfather had been a coward. His more outrageous faults appeared to stem from his treatment after receiving the Mark of Punishment. Usze doubted Nitro would have become so promiscuous and crude and loud had he not been treated so badly.

Then there was Chief Quartermaster Fil Storamy, who, for all she was bad-tempered, had been restricted in her professional choices simply by virtue of being female. Were the rumours true—did her skill with a blade rival his? If it did, she belonged in a battle unit, not a storeroom.

And then there were the Humans. No, they were no match for a Sangheili one-on-one, but they were brave and tenacious and clever, and their teamwork outstripped the Sangheili, who were so often focused on individual heroism—or glorious deaths—that they forgot to watch their brothers' backs. There was much to admire about the Humans, though tradition taught Sangheili to revile all other species.

These revelations did not even begin to approach what Nitro had taught him about the nature of love—not merely that of one being for another, but as an approach to living itself. To show grace to his fellow creatures. To understand and to forgive and to try to become better. To fail and to pick oneself up and then to try again. To sacrifice a cold and selfish pride for the betterment of all.

The Ascetics were wrong.

Oh, and how he wanted to run to Nitro and tell his hero what was happening. He wanted to bury his snout in his mate's chest and weep for their too-brief past and their short-lived future.

But he could not. How selfish would it be to make Nitro share in the punishment he knew he had coming? Nitro had suffered enough for someone else's decisions.

Usze 'Taham had never expected that love might mean learning to let go.

Uzi awoke from his reverie when a blue-armoured shape darted up to Nitro. "Hey, how's it going?" the other Sangheili asked. Uzi felt a flare of jealousy when he recognized Ki 'Chaz.

"Okay," N'tho said dully.

"Me and some of the guys are going to practice sword fighting. Want to help us? I mean, since you just requalified for your blade and everything."

N'tho paused, thinking. "Not right now." He returned to his armour, then looked up. "Thanks, Ki."

"Maybe some other time?" Ki asked hopefully.

"Sure."

Uzi realized he should be feeling happier as he watched the other SpecOps warrior walk away. Ki's request had not been sexual. But there was something about Nitro that was bothering him.

N'tho was usually boisterous, passionate, larger-than-life. Today he seemed strangely subdued. He polished the same spot on his armour over and over again, although it already gleamed with a mirror shine.

_Does he miss me?_ Usze wondered.

The pull on his hearts was more painful than Usze could ever have dreamed. He felt physical agony at resisting the chance to approach Nitro.

But if he did…if he revealed himself to Nitro…they would kill him. They would kill his beautiful mate. Usze could survive any torment as long as he knew that Nitro was safe.

And so, as Usze walked out of the room, he concentrated on his fear, his grief, his love. He let them build, until they hurt, until the pain seared his soul, and he reveled in them as every breath became agony and every heartbeat became hell…and then, at the verge of breaking, he felt a numbness growing inside him. The sensation expanded, swallowing his emotion, tamping it down into a dark little box in the corner of his soul, and he slammed the lid and locked it.

He might be a traitor, but Usze 'Taham was still an Ascetic at heart, and he would not let his foolish emotions endanger the one thing he loved in this life.

*

N'tho polished the armour spot over and over until he became aware of another figure approaching him. He looked up, then rose to his feet and saluted the newly promoted SpecOps subcommander, Vaa 'Moiril.

Half of SpecOps had been lost on the _Infinite Succor_ mission, including Rtas 'Vadum's first bondmate, Subcommander Kusovai. The other Subcommander, Rycl 'Otsed, had been left behind from _Infinite Succor_; with Rtas' new promotion to Admiral, Rycl had become the new SpecOps commander. Rycl had then chosen new Subcommanders: one of them was Vaa, the other was an older warrior named Tek 'Uliq.

"We'll be dropping out of Slipspace tomorrow," Vaa said. "The Arbiter has requested some SpecOps warriors to accompany him and Admiral 'Vadum on a mission."

"Am I on it?"

"No."

N'tho wasn't sure whether he felt disappointed or relieved. Part of him would have welcomed any distraction; another part was certain that he'd get himself killed when his mind wandered away from the mission and back to Usze's unexplained absence.

"No, Subcommander 'Uliq will be taking a handful of warriors. You and I are going to be remaining here, with the new rookies. Tomorrow we will begin training them. But tonight…both of us have the night off." Vaa gave N'tho a sly smile.

N'tho looked at Vaa and hesitated.

He'd heard a lot about Vaa from the other SpecOps warriors, particularly the late Pti 'Firog, who'd put a lot of information about Vaa into Nitro's "Welcome to SpecOps" briefing. Vaa was, apparently, very close to being the SpecOps slut, with the primary difference being that Vaa insisted on being the dominant party in a relationship, every time. Pti 'Firog had warned Nitro that if he didn't like being mounted, he should decline Vaa's advances.

Then Pti had leaned closer and whispered that those who declined Vaa's advances missed out on some very nice experiences.

According to Pti, Vaa was a consummate gentleman, and though he had no interest in committed relationships, he was always very respectful and gracious towards his partners.

Now Vaa was looking at N'tho and Nitro had to admit, some of Pti's more detailed explanations were ringing in his head.

The words "I'm busy" quivered on the edge of N'tho's mandibles and died.

By the Rings, he couldn't spend the rest of his life like this. He'd spent the Earth-to-Slipspace flight checking his comm link for messages from Usze about twice every minute, only to be disappointed every time. He'd spent the Slipspace flight up till now worrying about 'Gamul, worrying about Usze, worrying about Zhaal, worrying about Piro worrying about him…

He had nowhere else to sleep tonight.

And he still hadn't heard anything from Uzi.

The Subcommander apparently considered N'tho's silence to be stretching on too long. "Do you have a consort, then?" 'Moiril asked.

"No," N'tho mumbled. Usze had made it very clear that he was not the consort type.

"Do you find me unappealing?"

"No," N'tho said, because _yes_ would be a terrible lie. Vaa was classically handsome in all the right ways; he could be a statue gracing a temple on Sanghelios. Not like Blademaster 'Taham, with his mismatched eyes and his lean, subtle musculature and his broad, exotic muzzle…

_I want Usze._

_Well_, he argued with himself, _you're not going to get Usze, are you? Usze isn't here. Uzi could be anywhere, and he hasn't even bothered to comm you to let you know where he is or even that he's okay. That ought to show you how much you mean to Usze._

_You just don't want to realize that Usze has charmed you, fucked you, and left you. _

_That's right, you idiot, you let it happen to you again. _

Vaa 'Moiril was making a clear offer, with no pretenses of long-term involvement. It would be a night of entertaining distraction, and then it would end, and N'tho would know exactly where he stood with Vaa.

"Well then," the Subcommander said, his eyes shining, "would you like to spend the night with me?"

If he spent the night in Vaa's room, he wouldn't have to worry about Epse 'Gamul finding him.

If Vaa wore him out, he might get a good night's sleep. He hadn't slept well since Earth.

If Vaa was as good as Pti had said, Nitro might actually spend a few minutes not thinking about missing Uzi.

"Yes," N'tho 'Sraom said, and took Vaa's hand.

*

Usze had spent most of the journey from Earth to Sanghelios hiding in his storeroom lair. The Arbiter had offered him a private stateroom, but Usze had declined. The Blademaster was still convinced that the Ascetics, or Admiral 'Jar Wattin, had a sympathizer aboard the ship. If an empty room remained empty too long, or if food was delivered to that room…such a small thing could tip the sympathizer-spy off that Usze had given his allegiance to the Arbiter. As long as he remained concealed, the spy would believe that he was biding his time for the kill.

Soon, though, there would be no more time to hide. When _Shadow of Intent_ had emerged from Slipspace eight hours ago, the Arbiter and Admiral 'Vadum had departed on a Phantom for the Ascetic Temple. They took two other Phantoms full of warriors with them for backup. When the Arbiter confronted the Ascetics with their treachery, they would know that Usze had failed. And they would send their killer.

Usze sat on an empty crate, changing the battery in his armour. His cloaking shields were losing power too quickly; he suspected he'd simply worn out the battery by cloaking so often and forcing the battery to recharge over and over again. Now he sat in the dark, empty hold, trying to fix the problem with a fresh battery. He wished he was better with tools. Nitro could have done this in a minute or less….

The Blademaster was so absorbed with his task that he did not hear the door open. He was rudely awakened by a voice near at hand asking, "Are you Usze 'Taham?"

Uzi felt adrenaline spike through his system as he heard the voice coming from behind him, somewhere in the darkness. An assassin who would call attention to himself in this manner was the type who would challenge Usze to a duel rather than strike at him from hiding. And anyone who would willingly challege the Blademaster was probably someone who thought he could win.

Usze turned around, gripping the hilt of his blade tightly in his hand.

There was a movement in the shadows; then a figure coalesced out of the darkness. Standing before him was an old Sangheili dressed in faded red Major Domo armour. Neither of his hands held a weapon. Usze almost laughed before he realized that he might be underestimating his opponent. Could this be the warrior the Ascetics had sent to kill him? The old soldier's back was beginning to stoop with age, and his muzzle was marred with countless wrinkles, though his eyes were still shiny and bright.

"I am," Usze replied.

The old warrior's jaws clicked as he took a limping step forward. "Usze 'Taham, the Blademaster," he mused, and then he jerked his head up and snarled, "you are one cowardly son of a Jackal."

Usze found himself taken aback. The crazy old man had not drawn a weapon on him, but _nobody_ insulted his honour like that! Ever since ascending to the rank of Blademaster, nobody had ever dared. To have survived the battle of the Omega Halo only to have his courage questioned in this manner was unthinkable.

"Who in the seven rings of hell are you?"

"Piro 'Kipazee," the old warrior replied, drawing himself up straight, but Usze could tell he was frightened. His eyes were glassy, his mandibles were trembling and he'd given the old Covenant form of his name…

Covenant loyalist? Could there be Sangheili who still thought the Prophets were right?

No. Usze knew that name.

Piro 'Kipaz.

N'tho's friend.

He hadn't expected Piro to be so old. Piro had to be sixty if he was a day, probably over the elective retirement age for military service and closing fast on mandatory retirement. Another, completely irrelevant thought crossed his mind: had N'tho been telling the truth when he claimed that he and Piro had never mated? Hard on its heels was that twisting surge of sick heat that N'tho had told him was called _jealousy._

"N'tho forgot to mention that you were crazy," Usze snarled. "You walk up to me and spit out an insult like that? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," Piro replied with a hiss, "that you are embarrassed to let the rest of this ship know of your…intimate association with N'tho. Now you hide down here in the dark."

Usze was flabbergasted. How did this old bastard know about that?

A creeping voice in the back of his brain told him that Piro's guess was not an unreasonable one. Uzi hadn't approved of N'tho being put on the Arbiter's honour guard. He had written a scathing letter to Rtas 'Vadum to express that opinion. He had lied to Ki 'Chaz and Aj 'Qorop and the red Major Domo rather than admit what he and Nitro had been up to in that stream on the Ark. Was Piro right? Was he ashamed of N'tho? Was this business with the Ascetics just an excuse to hide the real reason he hadn't returned to see 'Sraom?

Then he imagined an Ascetic warrior driving a sword through N'tho's guts and felt his guts twist into knots at the thought.

"No!" Usze blurted.

Piro nodded, pretending to consider. "There is another possible answer," the old warrior said. His eyes narrowed ferally. "That you were lying to him when you told him you cared for him."

'Taham's mandibles gaped. Piro seemed to have no sense of propriety; he accused Usze without a care for the consequences of his words.

"So which are you, Blademaster?" Piro persisted. "A coward, or a liar?"

Only the knowledge that Piro was N'tho's friend kept Usze from beating the old warrior black and blue. Instead he growled, "Let me ask you, Piro, if you care for someone, would you willingly bring assassins to their door? Would you risk that person's life because you are selfish and don't want to be alone? Would you pull your dear one down with you?"

Piro had the good graces to flinch as Usze continued his tirade.

"I betrayed the Ascetic Order. They wanted me to commit….assassination. Mutiny. Treason. My life is in danger and so is Nitro's if the Ascetic Order ever even guesses that they could get to me by hurting him." He grabbed 'Kipaz by the shoulders. "Do you understand? They can kill me if they must but they will_ not_ lay hands on him."

Piro seemed to deflate in Usze's grip; the Major Domo's manic fire faded, leaving him a battered, beaten old man. "Understood, Blademaster," 'Kipaz whispered, and turned away. Usze let him pull himself from the Blademaster's grip. Piro reached to his hip and gripped the handle of his plasma rifle as he limped away.

Why was Piro taking up his weapon now? The gesture filled Usze with unease. He felt driven to ask 'Kipaz his intentions. "Where are you going?"

"To tell N'tho I have found him a private place to sleep. And then, to get myself killed," the old Sangheili said brokenly.

Usze shook his head, trying to make sense of the bizarre encounter. He struggled to put aside his own ego and overlook the anger he felt at Piro's lack of respect for his rank. Clearly the old soldier was worried about Nitro, worried enough to spit insults at a superior officer…and if he really was Nitro's friend, then Nitro wouldn't want him to get hurt.

"Killed? By who?" Surely Piro wasn't going after the Ascetics' assassins, was he? How could he be? He hadn't even known the reason that Usze hadn't contacted N'tho….

"I'm going to duel the Shipmaster," Piro whispered. "Before he comes after N'tho again."

"The Shipmaster?"

Rtas 'Vadum had been the Shipmaster, but since he and the Arbiter had returned to Sanghelios to confront the Ascetics in their Temple, the title "Shipmaster" would pass to the warrior actually in charge of the ship. And that would be the Executive Officer….

"Epse 'Gamul," Usze hissed.

Piro nodded. "General 'Vadum told N'tho that 'Gamul was the one who put those pictures and videos of Nitro up on the BattleNet."

Usze clicked his teeth inside his helmet. The explanation made perfect sense. As Executive Officer of _Shadow of Intent_—Shipmaster in Rtas 'Vadumee's absence—'Gamul would have access to all the security footage. He also outranked Usze, which explained why he could hide from Usze that he was the one who posted it on the BattleNet.

"Why?" Usze growled.

"My guess," Piro said dully, "is that Epse hoped Rtas would see that footage, be completely disgusted by it, and throw N'tho out of SpecOps. But no matter what Rtas thinks of N'tho's behavior, SpecOps is too short on warriors right now for him to kick N'tho out."

'Taham folded his arms. "Frankly I'd be surprised if he kicks N'tho out, ever. First, Epse is presuming Rtas didn't read N'tho's personal files. I know Rtas is more thorough than that. Secondly, Epse forgets that Rtas' consort has _also _mated with half the fleet, which makes me wonder, why does everyone seem to think Nitro is so dirty while envying the Arbiter for his virility and prowess?"

"Perhaps it's the Mark of Punishment."

"The Arbiter's Mark of Shame is considerably larger and more ignomious. I think it's more to do with rank, and attitude…"

"And the fact that the Arbiter doesn't stoop for anyone," Piro said quietly. "Except perhaps Rtas."

Usze shook his head. "Forget the Arbiter. Why the hell did Rtas leave 'Gamul in charge?"

"He didn't. He left Zealot Shek 'Jekow in charge—you know, the weapons officer."

The back of Usze's neck prickled. "Where's 'Jekow now?"

"Nobody knows. My guess is dead." 'Kipaz's eyes were haunted. "Epse 'Gamul is out of control. He's the ranking officer on ship, and Rycl 'Otsed is in charge of SpecOps now, and everything that Epse says, Rycl does…"

"And SpecOps does with him," Usze said, thinking fast. "This is all related. The Arbiter and 'Vadum go to fight the Ascetics. They know 'Gamul's done something inappropriate, but are reluctant to behead someone simply for messing with the cameras. They leave him in his rank while they decide what to do, but name someone else Shipmaster. But as soon as they're gone, the Shipmaster disappears, 'Gamul's back in command, and his consort the SpecOps Commander is providing him with his own personal police force." Usze clicked his teeth. "Where's Nitro now?"

Piro tilted his head

"Sorry. N'tho."

"I told N'tho to stay in our quarters. 'Gamul's obsessed with him. Since the video trick failed, Epse has to think of a new way to get revenge, and it's going to be ugly. Unfortunatley, N'tho is more than a little upset about someone here…" 'Kipaz glared at 'Taham "…and when I checked our quarters, he was gone. It's only a matter of time before his path crosses 'Gamul's. Blademaster 'Taham, someone has to look after N'tho." He shot Usze a dirty glare. "It looks like it's going to be me." Piro reached slowly towards his belt and fingered the handle of his plasma rifle meaningfully.

Usze knew, with absolute certainty, that the old soldier was no match for Epse 'Gamul.

"You can't kill the Shipmaster. Piro, be reasonable. "

"Someone has to look after N'tho," Piro repeated stubbornly. "Who is it—me or you? Sir?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Usze asked brokenly. "Do you think I haven't wanted to come see Nitro? Protect him? Piro, the Ascetics would torture him…please tell me Epse wouldn't be that bad…I mean, at least he would survive, right? Right?"

Piro's eyes glittered. "You haven't seen N'tho since Earth, have you?"

Usze felt his guts turn over. "What is wrong?"

'Kipaz clenched his mandibles together. "N'tho's changed. He spent the flight through Slipspace telling me over and over that you'd comm him when we decanted to realspace. He was withdrawn, keeping to himself, building models in his room, tinkering with things…but I didn't mind that change, if it was keeping him out of the mess hall bar and other Sangheili's quarters. Then we hit orbit around Sanghelios and he still hadn't heard a word from you—no visits, not even a comm—and it was as though some switch flipped in his brain and he just went berserk."

"Berserk how?" Usze asked, though he feared he already knew the answer.

"Taking his old vices to extremes." Piro's face was hard. "I know what _despair_ looks like, Usze of the house of 'Taham. N'tho is killing himself slowly. If it is because of you…if you succeeded in convincing him to trust you…then you had best take responsibility for what you have done, because if he continues on this way, he will die with or without you."

"Piro, he would not want you dead either. Please. Don't go after 'Gamul on your own. We can work something out, but first I have to find him."

'Kipaz nodded. "You are right. He will not listen to me. Perhaps he will listen to you. Just be prepared what you will find."

"Where is he?"

The Major Domo let out a breath. "I think if you check the mess hall, you may find someone who knows where he has gone."

The mess hall. During the supper hour, it was a place to eat; the rest of the time, it was the Sangheili bar, a place where friends could blow off steam—or the ship's Elite personnel could find partners looking for hookups. Usze felt sick all over again.

"Piro, I am going to find him and I am going to take care of him. Do not do anything foolish, do you understand?"

He did not wait for Piro's reply. He had to trust the old warrior to make a reasonable choice. Right now, it seemed that every second he spent apart from N'tho was taking both of them further down a path to disaster.


	14. Chapter 15: Heart's Shards

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Fifteenth: Heart's Shards**

Usze 'Taham slammed the door of the mess hall open and peered into the dim corners, trying to catch a glimpse of Nitro. He listened intently, but the one sound he longed to hear—Nitro's racous laugh—eluded him. He sniffed desperately; the mixture of scents inside the room was too complex for him to say for certain whether or not N'tho had passed this way.

Uzi made a circuit of the room, and though he saw several warriors in compromising positions, not one of them was Nitro. His relief intermingled with worry. If N'tho wasn't here, where was he?

Usze searched the room for anyone he recognized. There was Rycl 'Otsed, sitting alone and sipping at a drink pouch. Usze really didn't want to ask Rycl about N'tho.

Then Usze saw a flicker of blue SpecOps armour at the bar.

Nitro? 'Taham darted forward, only for the other Elite to turn his head and signal to the bartender. It wasn't N'tho. It was Ki 'Chaz.

But Ki had been one of the trio chasing Nitro on the Ark. It was possible he might have been chasing him again. Usze swallowed his pride and took a seat beside 'Chaz. "Greetings."

Ki turned his head. "Blademaster," he said formally.

"I…" Usze swallowed. "I need to know if you've seen Nitro…N'tho…recently."

"No, sir." Ki's tone was cool.

Usze felt a spike of anger, driven higher and hotter by panic. "It's extremely urgent."

"Haven't seen a thing, sir."

'Taham could take no more. He clamped his hand down on Ki's wrist. "Is there anyone who might have? He is in trouble…"

Ki's eyes narrowed.

"…and if I do not find him quickly I may be too late to help him."

The other Elite's eyes widened. "You mean you're not pursuing him to hurt him?"

"Hurt him? Why would I…"

'Chaz tilted his head. "He said something a couple days ago. Something about you and hurting him…" Ki appeared confused. "Then he spent the night with Subcommander 'Moiril and after that he just went wild. And, well, I asked him about it. I know he had a reputation at his old unit, but by the Ancestors..." The Minor Domo shook his head, as if he lacked words to express N'tho's behaviour. "When I asked, he blamed it all on you." 'Chaz regarded 'Taham suspiciously. "What the hell did you do to him? Sir?"

"Nothing," Usze replied defensively. He ignored the voice nagging him that doing too much nothing for too long had helped to cause the current situation. He curled his hands to deny the impulse to rip out Subcommander 'Moiril's throat. He also tried to ignore the images flickering through his head, reminiscent of the BattleNet videos, of Nitro fucking warrior after warrior and laughing at Uzi all the while… Then his memory replayed the scene in the Phantom on the Ark—the scene of Ki and N'tho and the Major Domo playing sexual games. "You…you and N'tho didn't…."

Ki held up his hands in surrender. "No."

Usze found himself feeling cranky and frustrated, viciously so. He was sure that tearing a few ribbons out of 'Chaz would make him feel better, but he fought the urge—he was more self-aware now, and he knew that even if he had proof that 'Chaz had mated with Nitro, punishing Ki would not solve the problem at hand.

Ki must have read Usze's expression because he tilted his wrist. "See?"

'Chaz was wearing a shiny silver cuff around his wrist—the kind worn by consorts. Usze took a closer look at the entwined family sigils engraved on the cuff. House of 'Chaz and Keep of…

Usze's eyes widened. "'Qorop?"

Ki's face purpled. "What can I say…you took Nitro away, and we were bored." He looked at Usze shyly. "It went…well. It's still going well."

"Aj 'Qorop kept you _both_?"

"Both?" Ki repeated. "Oh, no, it's just me and Aj. You're talking about that other guy, what was his name…Zhaal 'Lymux. The Major Domo." He shrugged. "I don't know what he did. He took off as soon as Aj got out the chains and…er…maybe you don't want to hear about that."

'Taham could only guess that he looked disgusted. He forced his mind away from the mental image of Ki tied up—the thought did nothing for him save to unsettle his stomach—and back towards the issue at hand. "Do you know where Zhaal is now? Or anyone who might know where N'tho is?"

Then the door opened…and standing there was N'tho himself.

*

N'tho 'Sraom could see coronas around the lights in the bar and the eyes of its occupants. The faces of the other Sangheili blurred in a tumult of sound and motion. By the Rings, he hadn't been so drunk since he drank Private Doyle's screech back at Crow's Nest on Earth.

The screech incident had been worse—at least he was still conscious right now—but by the Ancestors, he was shaky. He seemed to recall he was supposed to be meeting someone here, though he couldn't be sure if he wasn't perhaps remembering something in the past, or maybe it was tomorrow…

He didn't know. He didn't care. There'd be some sort of distraction here, possibly more alcohol, possibly more company.

He ached with every step. Thinking back on it, he probably should have told the gun crew no. But they'd been insistent that between the six of them, they'd be able to give him plenty of distraction; after all, they were in Sanghelios' airspace and there was no chance of an enemy Brute vessel being dumb enough to attack them in their own backyard, so the odds of the plasma cannon being called into action were a million to one…

The plasma cannon had indeed not been called into action, and servicing six very horny, very bored gunners had quickly turned from entertaining to a downright grueling workout. At least they'd had alcohol….

…and at least it had taken his mind off Uzi, if only for a short time.

Now, even though he was drunk, he was thinking about Uzi again. Where the hell was the Blademaster? Why hadn't he come—why hadn't he even sent a comm?

_Because you shared something special and now it's over_.

Usze probably just hadn't had the words to tell him. Or maybe Piro was right. Maybe Uzi was back in his snotty, arrogant world of Ascetic vows and Blademaster propriety, and now he was too good for a Minor Domo with a Mark of Punishment on his shoulder.

_Uzi told you he wasn't the consort type. That should have been your first clue._

No, Nitro had been fooling himself. If he was sad…if he was surprised that Uzi had dumped him…he had only himself to blame. He'd known better than to fall in love with Uzi. He'd known better all along.

He was a slut, a fool, and a failure.

Now, despite the fact that his head was pounding, his vision was blurred, and his intimate places were aching and raw, the hollowness in his soul still hurt the most. He limped his way to the bar, seeking something, anything, to drive it away.

*

Usze watchd N'tho stumble towards the bar. 'Sraom was more than a little drunk, judging by the way he swayed on his feet, and though his eyes swept right over Usze and Ki, he did not seem to recognize them.

A figure in red armour bounded out of the shadows and grabbed N'tho by the shoulder. They were close enough for Usze to hear them talking. 'Taham recognized the other Elite as Zhaal 'Lymux, the Major Domo from the Phantom.

"Took you long enough," Zhaal growled.

"I was busy," N'tho shot back.

Zhaal sniffed at N'tho's neck. "Busy with who?"

"None of your business." Nitro shot Zhaal a glare. "I don't belong to you." But for all N'tho's brave words, his speech was slurred and he was weaving helplessly in Zhaal's grip.

Zhaal sniffed again, getting close to N'tho in a way that made Usze's blood boil. "Smells like you belong to half the ship if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you." N'tho folded his arms. "You know what? Fuck you, Zhaal." He jabbed at Zhaal's chest with his finger, but missed. "I don't need your shit."

"Hey 'Sraom," another voice called from across the bar, "if you don't want Zhaal, we could go again…."

Usze snapped his head around, registering the identity of one of _Shadow_'s flight crew and vowing to beat the shit out of him later. He felt sick. Piro was right; N'tho had gone right back to his old habits. What they'd shared on Earth hadn't been enough to change him.

By the Ancestors, it was not becoming of an Ascetic to care so much! Usze could only wish that he might be the Perfect Warrior, if only because a Perfect Warrior would not feel so inadequate, so betrayed, so…so heartbroken.

"Shut up," Zhaal said to the flying officer. "It's my turn now." He grabbed N'tho by the arm and pulled him close, rubbing his knuckles over the SpecOps warrior's mandibles. "I give you five minutes, N'tho, before you forgive me everything," he murmured seductively.

"I don't want to."

"Yes, you do." 'Lymux reached down, started caressing N'tho in a way that Usze didn't want to think about—right in the middle of the mess hall! N'tho's knees buckled and he sagged against the other Elite. Zhaal wrapped an arm around him. N'tho moaned and lay his head submissively on 'Lymux's shoulder.

Zhaal smirked hungrily. "I knew it. I knew you just can't get enough, you little slut."

N'tho whimpered sadly.

Usze saw red. And yet, he remained on the seat next to Ki 'Chaz, watching the scene unfold. Just watching, not wanting to draw attention to himself, not wanting the whole bar to witness….

…to witness what? Usze intervening on N'tho's behalf?

By the Rings, was Piro 'Kipaz right?

Impossible. N'tho had been cheating on him. Why should he intervene?

Was it cheating when they'd never promised each other anything?

Usze didn't want to think that Piro's assessment of his character was accurate. But if it wasn't, why wasn't he stepping in? N'tho was clearly intoxicated and seemingly ambivalent about this encounter with Zhaal, and Usze was sitting here letting it happen.

Usze was every bit the coward Piro had said he was.

N'tho's mandibles churned weakly. "You better…you better not be rough."

The Major Domo shook N'tho forcefully. "I'll be as rough as I want. You know you like it…"

Forget red. Usze saw _black_.

In that moment his precious reputation ceased to matter. He sprang from his seat and crossed the room in the blink of an eye, pulling N'tho away from Zhaal and sending the Minor Domo staggering clear. Usze stuck his muzzle right up in the taller Major Domo's face. "Keep your hands off him," he growled menacingly.

Zhaal blinked. "Blademaster 'Taham," 'Lymux said with a smirk. "Fancy you interrupting a lovers' spat."

"I said leave him alone," Uzi persisted.

"Why?" 'Lymux countered. "He likes it."

Usze turned his head. "Nitro. Tell Zhaal to fuck off."

Nitro was staring back at Uzi with a look of horror.

*

N'tho's mandibles worked, but no sound came out. He had to be hallucinating. He had to be.

Usze had been gone without so much as a goodbye. He had not contacted N'tho during the whole Slipspace voyage. Why was he here, now, in the middle of the mess…

…watching a drunk Nitro hanging all over Zhaal, stinking of mating from his encounter with the gunners?

Nitro realized, like a blade to his heart, what a mistake he'd made.

He should've waited longer. Should've trusted Usze to keep his word. Should have believed that Uzi had a good reason for disappearing and staying out of touch so long. Instead, he'd lost faith. Now Uzi could see clearly just what a filthy little slut his hero was.

Usze's expression was starting to waver. Zhaal had folded his arms and was smiling smugly.

"Nitro?" Uzi asked. "Nitro, who do you want to listen to….me or him?" Uzi's hand twitched slightly, and N'tho remembered very well how Uzi trembled when he was nervous.

"You," Nitro whispered. No matter how angry Uzi might be, no matter how much N'tho didn't deserve him, when phrased that way, there was no contest. Zhaal was acting cold and aggressive and they hadn't even mated yet; Nitro had no intention of ever placing the selfish, rough Major Domo over Usze 'Taham.

"You heard him," Usze said. He leaned right up against Zhaal and snarled, "Now fuck off."

The whole mess hall was staring, rapt, as the cool and professional Ascetic snarled curse words at the Major Domo. Zhaal, on the other hand, was not fucking off. He continued to leer at Usze. "And why should you care, Blademaster?"

Usze grabbed the handle of his blade and put his muzzle right against Zhaal's. Then he said, in a lethal whisper, "This is your final chance to leave before I put my sword through your guts."

Zhaal blinked and paled, his bravado fading. "You'd kill me for helping myself to the ship's slut?"

"Stay and see," Usze said, his expression horrifying, his words almost seductive, as though he _wanted_ Zhaal to stay. As though he was hoping for an excuse to kill the Major Domo.

Zhaal 'Lymux was mean but not stupid. The Major Domo backed away carefully and beat a hasty retreat.

Usze 'Taham put his arm around N'tho's shoulders and growled to the entire assembly, "This is a lesson for all of you. Stay the hell away from my mate."

And with that pronouncement, he muttered in N'tho's earbud, "Come on. We're getting out of here."

*

"Where's your quarters?" Usze asked as he guided N'tho down the hall, away from the mess.

N'tho's head lolled against his shoulder. "I hate you," he mumbled. Usze couldn't tell if N'tho was talking to him, or if he meant the words for Zhaal or some other ghost. "I hate you…I love you…I hate you…"

"Nitro, this is important. You need to tell me. Now."

"I'm not taking you to my room, you fucking dick." N'tho's eyes were focused on Usze this time. Uzi could only guess that N'tho was mad at him.

Perhaps he deserved to be. Right now, though, they didn't have the luxury of arguing in the middle of the corridor.

Usze was cursing himself for telling the entire mess that he considered Nitro to be his mate. If there were any assassins on the ship, they now had two targets. 'Lymux had just gotten him so _angry_…so possessively angry…

There was no excuse. He'd lost control. Something about Nitro seemed to make that happen time and time again, and yet, Uzi could not blame Nitro for this. An Ascetic took responsibility for his own actions. Usze might be at odds with the Ascetic Order on several points, but he couldn't change the fact that for most of his life, he'd agreed with the Ascetic Order's philosophies and practiced its tenets. Right now, he had to rein in his wild emotions and focus on protecting them both.

"Nitro. I have assassins after me, do you understand? I can't be out in the open, and as long as you're in my presence, you are a target too. Now _where are your quarters_?"

N'tho folded his arms stubbornly. "Piro won't let me bring fuck buddies home."

"Is that all I am to you?" Usze demanded, unable to hide the hurt he felt from echoing in his voice. "A fuck buddy?"

There was a long pause.

"No," N'tho replied grudgingly. "Come on."

N'tho led him on a long, winding path through the ship. Just when Usze was beginning to wonder if 'Sraom was too intoxicated to find his quarters, he stopped before a nondescript door in a row of similar doors. He pressed his hand to the access panel and the door opened.

Usze urged him through before shutting and locking the door behind him. He hoped nobody had noticed them entering; he had no idea what he'd do if assassins burst in while he was with Nitro.

Usze took a look around the room. He knew his old stateroom had been larger than most, but how did two Sangheili live in quarters so tight? There was a bunk on either side of the room. One was carefully made, simply decorated, and neatly marked PIRO 'KIPAZEE. The other was a messy snarl of tangled blankets, including something which looked remarkably like a Shipmaster's doarmir-fur cloak, coloured brilliant purple. The walls to the front and side of this bunk were crammed with photos and shelves and all manner of junk, including an impressive collection of models of both Covenant and Human vehicles and numerous postcards of Earth. The nameplate said N'THO 'SRAOM with the "EE" suffix scratched to near-illegibility. A throw rug lay between the two bunks and in front of a shared end table.

N'tho swayed beside him. Usze turned his attention away from the room in order to guide Nitro into the head. Carefully, he stripped N'tho's armour and suit; the SpecOps warrior did not protest. Usze lowered 'Sraom to the floor in the corner of the shower.

Nitro had been quiet all this time, but now he spoke. "I fucking hate you," N'tho mumbled, looking at Uzi out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you hate me so much, why don't you tell me to get out?" 'Taham couldn't quite keep the irritation from his voice as he struggled to figure out what to do. N'tho was too unsteady to stand, and sponging him off from the sink would take so long.

"Cause you wouldn't listen to me."

Usze sighed. "I would if you were sober when you said it." He felt strangely hurt as he wet a towel and laid it down over the drain in the floor of the shower.

"What're you doing?" N'tho's head lolled.

"I'm making the closest possible approximation to a bathtub," Usze said as he stripped his armour. "Do you want me to leave my suit on?"

"You don't have to," Nitro replied dully. "I've seen it all before, right?" He tried to smirk, but he couldn't keep the expression on his mandibles. His face lapsed back into despair.

"Nitro," Usze murmured, stung. He tossed his helmet, armour and suit aside. Uzi stepped into the shower stall, kneeling down beside N'tho, running his hand over the SpecOps warrior's cheek. "What is wrong with you?"

N'tho didn't answer. He sat there, staring at the wall.

Usze pulled a cloth off the rack, activated the force field to seal the shower, and turned on the water. He picked up the soap—a simple general-issue bar, not the thick liquid Usze favoured—and rubbed it across N'tho's back. 'Sraom did not resist as Usze washed his body. Any thrill 'Taham might have gotten from bathing him all over vanished when he realized how unresponsive Nitro was; he gave no signs of pleasure, but neither could he be bothered to struggle. As a result, washing N'tho's genital vent ended up a clinical rather than an erotic experience, and when N'tho winced in pain, Usze found his thoughts clouded by a choking rage. He could barely force out the words. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Did they…" Uzi choked. "Did they rape you?"

"No."

"You _asked _for this?"  
"I told them I didn't care what they did," N'tho said flatly.

'Taham struggled to keep his temper. "Who did this?"

"Main gun crew…second shift."

"Nitro," Usze said, feeling his soul breaking. He ran his knuckles gently over N'tho's mandibles. The SpecOps soldier jerked away as if Uzi's touch burned him.

"You know what I've been up to since we got back from Earth, right?" N'tho said, his voice too loud and too fast, his tone artificially bright. "I've been out fucking the fleet…yeah, that's right…stooping for anyone who'll look at me, every chance I get, because you know what? Epse 'Gamul is right. I'm a little slut, and I'll fuck anything, because I'm only good for two things: cannon fodder and sex. And I am never, never, ever going to change…"

"Shut up!" Usze barked at him. "Shut up—I don't want to hear it!"

*

Nitro was well and truly angry now.

Who the _fuck_ did Usze 'Taham think he was? Leaving Nitro alone that long, not even a comm, not even a rumour passed through the fleet to let Nitro know he was okay, let alone to talk to him or Forerunners forbid, come to _see _him…

N'tho had been pacing around this little room like a thornbeast in a cage during the entire Slipspace flight, feeling more and more lonely, more and more agitated, sleepwalking through his assignments from 'Vadum, hiding from 'Gamul, upsetting Piro, until finally he hit the breaking point. Something had to give. Something had to change before he lost his mind.

Nitro had been particularly tempted to get it on with Ki 'Chaz and Aj 'Qorop after that little incident on the Ark, but he discovered that turning them down on the Ark had created an unexpected side effect. Ki and Aj were apparently very busy with _each other _these days, to the extent that neither was interested in anyone else.

N'tho wasn't sure how Ki had managed to put a leash on 'Qorop or keep the Zealot's more…painful…tastes under control, but they seemed very happy in their relationship and Ki apparently gave Nitro the credit for getting the two of them together. 'Chaz had made several friendly but non-sexual overtures.

Nitro's more logical mind told him it would be good to have another platonic friend, but his depression had prevented him from fully taking 'Chaz up on his invitations to socialize. Instead he fell into bed with Vaa 'Moiril, the other SpecOps Subcommander, and all of a sudden he was back in the mess picking up everyone who looked at him twice.

At first he tried to pretend that the guys he was fucking—or more precisely, getting fucked by—were Uzi, but he gave up on that quickly. They were _nothing _like Uzi. He didn't know if they lacked the style and technique, because they lacked the will to even try to do what Uzi did to him. Not even the much-vaunted Vaa 'Moiril could hold a candle to Usze.

N'tho had entertained daydreams of Uzi walking through the door and seeing his hero from the Omega Halo taking it from whatever warrior was on him at the time. Well, to hell with Usze 'Taham. It served him right, didn't it? He could have called.

But N'tho still missed Uzi. Nitro sure as hell wouldn't turn a Mongoose around on a collapsing ring world for any of his new mates. They were using him, and he was using them. Situation normal.

Had Uzi just been using him too? Fuck, you couldn't trust an Ascetic, the cold-hearted bastard…

And just when N'tho had been starting to believe the nasty things he'd been calling Uzi, Uzi himself showed up, all tender and concerned and affectionate…and too late to stop Nitro from becoming the ship's slut.

If there was some explanation for Usze's long absence—if Uzi really did care for him and had finally come back for him—Nitro had really fucked it up now, hadn't he?

Filled with anger and hurt and self-disgust and confusion, N'tho lashed out.

"You just don't want to admit that you've got the hots for a little slut like me! You don't want the fleet to know that you fucked me, and you really don't want them to know that you loved it, and you especially don't want them to know that _I _fucked _you _and you loved that even _more_! And you want me again, don't you? That's why you came back. You fought yourself this long and you just can't forget how good the sex was—and you can't forgive me for addicting you. You're here right now because you don't know whether you want to punch the shit out of me, or whether you want to bend over the nearest Ghost and beg me to fuck you silly again!" He struggled to his feet and stepped out of the shower before whirling on Usze. "Well, get the hell on with it already. Get on with it or I might just fuck you here and now, and if I did, I'd open this door and let the whole fleet see that I'm not the only little slut in this room!"

"Step out and turn around," Usze said coldly as he turned off the shower and opened the force field.

'Sraom stepped out into the main room and turned his back defiantly.

The Blademaster growled an order. "On your knees."

N'tho found himself obeying purely out of instinct. He wondered if Uzi was going to beat him, or fuck his brains out. Probably both.

He didn't even care any more.

Behind him, there was a sound of something cracking. Usze leaned forward and handed him a long, cylindrical object that Nitro recognized.

"Uzi, this is…er, _was_…Piro's training staff. He is going to be seriously pissed at you."

"Put it between your mandibles."

"Wha?" Usze didn't even seem to care what he'd done.

"Do it. Now."

"Kinky." Nitro couldn't resist the comment, even if it made Usze angrier.

Usze did not respond to the bait. His voice sounded distant, mechancial. "Hold out your arms and brace yourself. Bite down on that stick, and whatever you do, _do not flinch_."

"Why?" The word was barely intelligible around the bit in N'tho's mandibles. Something was wrong. Nitro tried to tell himself that Usze was always serious, and a little stiff, and had no experience in playing these kinds of dominance games, but he could not explain away the strange crawling feeling at the base of his neck, nor could he afford to forget that his fucking around had probably hurt and insulted the Blademaster.

_And what sorts of nasty tricks had those Priestesses taught him? What had they done to him that he might do to me now?_

"I'm sorry, Nitro," Usze said. His words rang with a tone of inevitability. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt very, very much."

Then N'tho heard the chilling sound of an energy sword activating.


	15. Chapter 16: Hope's Vow

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Sixteenth: Hope's Vow**

Thick purple blood soaked into the fibres of the throw rug. Usze saw Nitro's blood on his hands, his thigh.

'Taham hadn't been prepared for the strength of his guilt. He didn't realize it would hurt so much, to know that he'd been the one to skin Nitro alive.

But it had to be done.

Usze reached down onto the tiled floor and picked up a sodden lump that had once been part of N'tho 'Sraom. He grasped it by the corner, letting it dangle.

"Here," he said, holding it in front of Nitro's face.

The bloody square of hide had a Mark of Punishment branded into its centre.

*

"Mother _fucker_," N'tho replied through gritted mandibles, squeezing a blood-soaked towel tighter over the raw, skinless patch on his right shoulder. "When you say something's going to hurt…" His head was finally starting to clear, as though the pain of his fresh injury was bringing the world back into focus.

"I don't ever want to hear that garbage coming out of your mouth again," Usze replied sternly, arms folded. "That nonsense about me being ashamed of you. I have no regrets over anything we did together on Earth. I don't care if the entire fleet knows that we are…were…that we spent our time on Earth mating. I'm not ashamed of anyth…"

His voice faltered and Nitro jumped on it. "Not ashamed, hm? Okay: Warthog, Warthog, Warthog."

Usze turned purple.

N'tho folded his arms, victorious.

"I'm still somewhat…addled…about that Warthog incident, but that's not the same as regretting it." Usze got down on his knees besides 'Sraom and began fastening a bandage over the wound. "I didn't stay away because I was embarrassed to be seen with you."

"You've stained your honour," N'tho said quietly.

"Hm?"

"You made me bleed, not in combat. You know, it's why they look down on the surgeons. What are your Ascetics going to say about that? What about…"

"I don't care," Uzi replied. "Nitro, what I'm telling you is classified. You must swear to keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?"

N'tho was about to make a joke, but it died on his tongue as he realized that Usze had never looked more serious.

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"The Ascetics told me to kill the Arbiter."

N'tho felt his mandibles drop. "Holy shit…you're not gonna do it, are you?"

"No. I told the Arbiter. Warned him. The Ascetics and Imperial Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin are planning a coup. Any day now the fleet's going to split into civil war."

"Fuck," N'tho breathed.

"Nitro…" Usze squeezed his mate's hand. "As soon as the Ascetics realize the Arbiter's still alive, they're going to know that I either failed, or betrayed them. As soon as they realize I'm alive, they're going to make an example of me. I'm going to die, Nitro." Usze took N'tho's lower mandibles in his hands again and guided the younger warrior to look him in the eye. He smiled sadly. "And I want you to live for me," he murmured. "I want to think that you have a bright and shining future ahead of you. So I asked the Arbiter a favour, and he granted it. Your absolution has gone out over the BattleNet."

N'tho's eyes widened. "What?"

"You have been formally pardoned by the Dervish-King, and the mark of your punishment has been removed." He looked N'tho in the eyes. "Son of the keep of 'Sraom, this is not a forgiveness of sins. All of Sanghelios has been informed that you had no responsibility in your grandfather's crimes and therefore, no sin accrued to you. Ever. That Mark of Punishment was, and always has been, a mistake. As long as the Arbiter is in power, you are wholly forgiven."

"Well thanks," N'tho said, "but Uzi, you scared the fucking shit out of me. I thought you were going to kill me."

Usze sighed, looking guilty. "I think part of me wanted to scare you a little. I think you're right—I really am an asshole, aren't I? I'm…I'm very sorry." He bent over, mopping up some of N'tho's blood on the floor with the already-blood-soaked rug, and then winced. "It was very hard to hurt you…I'm sorry…"

"You're sorry?" N'tho pulled his hand away. "Didn't you hear me before? I said, I was fucking every guy in the fleet who'd look at me right before you showed up. I didn't wait for you. And you know what? Maybe getting rid of that brand didn't change anything. Maybe I'm still a slut. Maybe I still don't deserve you…at all…." He drew breath and let out a choked sob.

Usze rose to his feet. "It's not fair for me to be angry, Nitro. We never made any commitment to each other. We never took any vows." 'Taham started pacing the room in agitation. "That, I think, is my fault, for dithering instead of asking you outright." He wrung his hands. "I hadn't even figured out whether you would be interested in such an arrangement." Usze came over and sat on the side of the bed. "You said it yourself, Nitro," he murmured. "Maybe you like the freedom to mate with whomever you please."

N'tho's mandibles gaped as he took a seat beside Uzi. "You mean you don't _care_ if I fool around on you?"

Usze bowed his head, closed his eyes. "It's not an easy thing for me to think about," he said quietly. "But I will _not _be like Epse 'Gamul. I can give you orders on a professional basis, but when it comes to your personal life, I can't tell you what you can and can't do, or who you must or must not mate with. I do not have that right." He let out a shuddering breath. "But it makes me sick to imagine you giving yourself to…to anyone who doesn't care for you like I do."

N'tho touched a hand to Usze's cheek in wonder and smiled softly. "I like being your hero." N'tho licked the Blademaster's neck. "I'm gonna follow you around and save your ass from the Ascetics."

"No. Nitro, you can't have anything to do with me again." Usze pushed him away, looking miserable even as he did it.

"Fuck you, Uzi. You can't deny I'm good at saving your ass." He offered Uzi a crooked smile.

"Nitro…" Usze let out a long, slow breath. "The Ascetics aren't fools. They know I'm a Blademaster. They aren't going to send a few mercenaries with plasma pistols after me. They're going to send someone even I can't defeat…someone like the Blood Shadow."

"Come on Uzi, there's no such thing as the Blood Shadow." But N'tho's spine prickled. The Ascetics probably would send the most lethal, most frightening, most col-blooded killer they could find.

And he wasn't entirely sure that the Blood Shadow wasn't just a legend told to scare the hatchlings.

"That's not the point. The point is…somehow, some way, the Ascetics aren't going to stop until they kill me, and I don't think that even the Arbiter and Rtas 'Vadum can wipe out the Ascetics first. Not with Imperial Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin on their side." Uzi dared to lick N'tho's muzzle. "I don't want them to kill you, too. Don't you understand? If I came back to you, I'd lead those assassins right to you." He picked up N'tho's hand and pressed it to the scars on his abdomen. "You're in danger right now, and every second I'm here with you makes it worse, and I…" His voice broke. "And I can't make myself leave you."

"I don't want you to leave," N'tho said, his voice thick. "Come on Uzi, don't be stupid. I turned that Mongoose around on the Omega Halo…I fell from the sky in half a ship…do you really think I'm afraid of assassins?"

"Nitro, we're going to _die_."

"Fuck 'em! What do I have, Uzi? What do I have in life? I've got Piro, SpecOps, and you. That's it. SpecOps needs the Arbiter and 'Vadum a hell of a lot more than it needs 'Jar Wattin, and you…who do you have, besides me?"

Usze's head bowed in defeat. "Nobody." He lifted his muzzle. "What about Piro?"

"As long as I've known him, Piro has been telling me to stand up for what's right," N'tho replied. "I always bowed down instead. Not this time. Dammit, Usze, what we have…isn't it something worth fighting for? How often can we keep making the same mistakes over and over? How often can you pull away from everyone who wants to help you? How often can I keep looking for hope in all the wrong places? Usze, this is our chance! If we sacrifice that, what do we have left?"

*

Usze heard his own words to the Arbiter thrown back at him and realized 'Sraom was right.

Walking away from Nitro, no matter how it hurt, was still the easier choice. Usze could die a hundred deaths if he knew Nitro was safe; it was so much harder to gamble with both their lives for a shot at something better. He felt guilty for involving N'tho in his problems; then he realized that the guilt was his Ascetic ego talking again, the voice that told him to face every challenge alone, because a Perfect Warrior wouldn't need anyone else.

Their time might be short. There were things that needed doing, and saying. This might be the only opportunity that Usze and N'tho would have to do them.

Usze swallowed, feeling woefully unprepared, knowing he would not do this the way it ought to be done…and yet all too aware of what might happen should he put it off again.

"Nitro," Usze whispered. "I…I need to show you something."

Nitro raised his head curiously.

"It's in the holding compartment in my armour. I'll be right back." He bunted N'tho and licked his cheek.

"Can I…" Nitro's eyes shimmered.

"Yes, my hero?" Usze murmured.

"Can I get in the bed?"

"Of course you may."

"And when…" 'Sraom's voice hitched.

"Yes?"

"When you come back, will you…."

"Yes?" He stroked his mate, who closed his eyes and sighed.

"Will you hold me?"

"Yes, Nitro. Yes, I will."

N'tho purred softly. "Hurry back."

*

N'tho 'Sraom heard Usze rummaging around in the head. He shifted his hips in the bed, but he still felt very uncomfortable. His genital vent was aching terribly, ever since the shower, even though Uzi had tried to be gentle when cleaning him. N'tho gritted his mandibles, choking back a sob, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking. He really didn't have any self-respect, did he? Why had he let the gun crew mate him until it hurt him?

Fuck…here was Usze, naked, in his room, and he was so damned sore that he didn't think he could let Uzi enter him without screaming from the pain.

He'd wasted his opportunity to be with Uzi again, all because he was such a slut.

Whimpering, N'tho fumbled around in his bedside drawer for the little bottle of salve he kept in there. The thick substance should work its magic and he'd be fine in a day or two…

_Dear Ancestors, Forerunners, Jesus, Buddha, Athena, and any other God(s) or Spirit(s) who might give a fuck, if you can please just let Usze stay around long enough to be with me…until I'm healed enough to be with him…I swear I'll…well, let me know what you want and it's yours. I swear this on the blood of my father, whoever he was, and I would swear it on the blood of my sons if I had any. Amen._

N'tho retrieved the jar. This was going to be messy and awkward; it always was. Sighing, he got out of bed, unscrewed the lid, set it on the dresser, and put one of his legs up onto the bed, wincing at the stretching sensation caused by his movement.

Then the door to the head opened. "What are you doing?" Usze asked, looking amused at the sight of his friend trying to balance with one foot on his mattress and the other on the floor while holding a jar in his hands.

"Can you just go back into the bathroom for a minute?"

"Certainly, but…curiousity demands I ask again…what in the name of all things holy are you doing?"

"I'm sore, okay?" N'tho snapped, sucking in a breath as a tear escaped one eye. "I need some salve on it."

"Let me do it," Usze offered, briskly walking across the room to retrieve the jar.

N'tho jerked it away from his grasp. "No, Usze, it's…It's for…" He took a deep breath. "_There_."

"Where?"

"Down there," N'tho repeated, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Ohhhh," Usze said as comprehension dawned. He looked down, swallowed, then faced Nitro once more. "Let me do it?"

"You'd do that for me?" N'tho whispered.

Usze took the salve in his right hand and cupped Nitro's cheek in his left. "I don't like to see you hurting."

"I deserve it," Nitro whispered.

"I don't care," Uzi replied gently. "I don't like to see you hurting. I want to see you smiling…purring…happy…"

N'tho half choked, but he nodded.

"Here," Uzi murmured, patting the bunk. "Lie on your back."

N'tho obeyed, gladly. He settled himself on the pillow and swallowed hard before spreading his thighs.

"How do I do this?"

"Put it on your finger." N'tho gulped. "The first…you should spread around the outside of my vent. Then get some more and put it, er…" Why was he suddenly so nervous? As though he hadn't been doing much worse things to get in pain in the first place! "Put it…inside."

Nitro closed his eyes, suddenly too nervous to watch as Usze made a gentle circuit of his vent.. Somehow it was as though removing the sense of sight made it easier for his mind to concentrate on his other senses, particularly the way it felt when Usze's salve-coated finger slipped inside him.

Aaaaahhhhh.

It felt so good…cool, soothing, relief. He moved his hips to help ensure the salve coated him all over inside. He felt his muscles clenching on Uzi's finger…yes, that was nice.

Then Usze carefully slipped out of him. He mewed, not ready for that. His eyes flew open and he saw Uzi's face near his.

"More?"

N'tho nodded. He wondered if the nod counted as a lie. He didn't really need any more; then again, he did _want _more…

Usze greased up his finger and slipped back inside. Nitro moaned in delight. A finger wasn't big enough to stretch him and make him hurt when he was so tender inside, and it just felt so good to have Usze back inside him again…

…by the Rings, the mistake he'd made. He didn't want any other male inside him ever again.

"Usze," he sighed as his hips began to pump. "Uzi, it feels so good…"

The Blademaster leaned over and began to lap Nitro's throat, long, slow licks in time with the beat of Nitro's thrusts.

Nitro struggled to keep his self-control. "Uzi, I don't need any more to heal," he said in a rush.

"Do you like this?" Usze murmured.

"Yes…but…oh…" He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, forced out the words. "This is just me being horny now."

"This is you feeling pleasure," 'Taham corrected as he began to move his finger. "And you know how I love to watch you revel in pleasure."

'Sraom threw back his head and writhed, helpless in the clutches of Usze's ministrations. He could hear the Blademaster laughing softly. "Nitro…you're so beautiful…"

And N'tho abandoned himself to his mate…his dearest battle brother.

*

Usze gently toweled N'tho off and dropped the towel on the floor. He climbed into the bed and lay himself down next to Nitro, listening to his lover's hearts pounding as he came down from his peak.

The bed was small—a typical single occupancy bunk—but Usze didn't mind being close to N'tho. "Remind you of anything?" he mused, smiling.

"You feel so good naked," N'tho purred, cuddling closer. "Just like back on Earth."

"Mmmm. I was thinking of cramming ourselves into my little bunk on our way to the Ark."

"That too. Do you have enough room?"

"I do if you do." N'tho paused. "By the Rings, I missed you so badly."

"I'm so sorry this all went wrong," Usze murmured as he stroked Nitro's hide. "You must understand, this isn't how it was supposed to end up for us. I want to be with you…I don't know how much time I have left…I don't know how to protect you."

"Shush," Nitro whispered. "Live in the present with me."

Usze smiled sadly and sat up in bed. "Can you give me just a minute in the best of all possible futures?" He reached out and picked up the box he had set on the end table. "I need to give you this because," he swallowed, "if the Ascetics assassinate me, I want you to have this, to know…to know how I felt about you."

*

The box was a strange-looking thing, coloured a dull grey, constructed with hard, square corners and covered in a soft but artificial-smelling fur. Its appearance was completely at odds with the curved, iridescent, swirling Covenant architecture, nor was it reminiscent of Sangheili aesthetics which tended to feature triangle designs, spires, and acute angles and incorporate natural materials such as stone, hide and wood. N'tho had no idea what it could be. He sat up, accepted the gift, and pried open the lid.

A snarl of silver linked chain lay in a snarl within. N'tho reached in to pick up the object, slowly untangling it, when he realized that it was not one chain but _two_ entwined together. They were the proper size to encircle a Sangheili's wrist. Each bore a single central plate, upon which was engraved a set of symbols.

N'tho dropped them as though they had electrocuted him.

With trembling hands he reached back into the box and carefully caught the bracelets in his fingers, one in each hand. They were linked together in the middle and would not come apart unless he opened one. His hands were shaking too much to separate them, because they had no clasp—they were designed to be welded shut and worn permanently—and right now, each had a single link still partially open so that they might be wrapped around the wearer's wrist. Manipulating that open link was beyond N'tho's abilities at the moment, because he could not tear his gaze from one of the engraved plates.

The symbols of the Merchant House of 'Taham and the 'Sraom Keep were interlinked on either side of the plate. At the top was N'tho's name, at the bottom, Usze's, and in the center a pictograph incorporating elements of both names into a single whole.

The layout of the faceplate was identical to the traditional pattern engraved on the cuffs worn by bondmates.

"This is from Earth, isn't it?" N'tho asked.

"You got these made when we were still on _Earth_."

Usze nodded again.

"You said you weren't the consort type!" N'tho said accusingly.

"I don't do things by half measures," Usze retorted tightly, folding his arms across his chest. "If you're going to be with someone, I don't see the point in calling them your consort and refusing to finalize the union."

N'tho shook his head, stupified. "The point of having a consort is to give yourself time to see if you like someone enough to want to spend the rest of your life with the guy. Or girl, if you like that sort of thing."

"I don't need any more time to know the answer to that question. If you do, I understand."

N'tho swallowed, his mouth bone dry. He hadn't dared to imagine that someone might want to be his _bondmate_, not for years. He'd had that dream well and truly crushed out of him.

Then, Usze.

But was Uzi simply making this offer out of an Ascetic's code of honourable conduct?

"So, you're saying you love me, then."

Usze let out an exasperated growl. "This is part of why I didn't ask you on Earth already…I've only had so much time for research."

"You're _researching_ whether or not you're in love with me?" N'tho said dryly.

"That's not the sort of thing you want to get wrong," Usze retorted. "How else am I supposed to know what love feels like?"

"How did you feel when you were away from me?" Nitro asked softly.

"Well…" Usze flushed. "Frisky, particularly when I thought about our, ah, intimate encounters…but that was only part of it. I was also lonely in other ways." He licked his mate. "I miss our discussions. I miss sharing experiences with you, going places, doing things, with you. I miss your scent, your laugh, the feel of you, the sound of your voice. I even miss your stupid jokes, though I'll deny that if you ever mention it." He scowled.

N'tho laughed.

Usze nudged his mate with his muzzle until 'Sraom grew serious. "I would think about you with other males, and I would be very jealous, angry and sickened…but I don't think that's love, N'tho. That's 'Gamul's petty, controlling behaviour. There can be no betrayal when we had no oaths to one another." He pulled N'tho close to him. "I will confess to feeling very possessive, though…" Then he lapped N'tho's cheek. "But in the end, I feel I must accept you for who you are. For everything you were, and for everything you will be. I cannot choose parts of you and change others. This must be all or nothing, and I choose all of you…just as you are."

N'tho closed his eyes. "Sounds like you might be in love all right," he murmured into Uzi's earbud. "Love _sucks_."

*

Usze was torn between rolling his eyes in exasperation at the ridiculous, slang-tainted, pessimistic statement, gritting his mandibles in anger that _this _was the response he was getting from baring his soul, and holding Nitro very close until he could convince the other male that there were good things to come from being in love. What in the planets and heavens could possess Nitro to say such a thing?

"Why?" 'Taham whispered, suddenly frightened.

"I fucking hate being in love," 'Sraom murmured.

"You've been in love, then?"

"Yeah." He opened his eyes. "This isn't counting family love, like, I loved my mom, or stuff like Piro, y'know, I love him, but not the mate with him kind of love. More like he was my uncle or something, even though he's not. That kind of love's okay."

"Go on," Usze murmured, stroking Nitro.

"If you're talking the mating kind of love, I guess I've been in love three times."

"Why do you hate it? I thought it was supposed to be nice?"

"It is at first. Then it _hurts_. It hurts real bad, like you wish it was a plasma burn, because those at least scab over and heal, but this doesn't. It hangs around and keeps hurting and hurting…."

"Will you…tell me?"

N'tho took a deep breath. "Okay. The first guy, it was soon after my graduation from War College. We were in the 812th together, and we were…" He swallowed hard. "Consorts, and it was pretty serious. We were talking about being bondmates and everything."

"What happened?"

"My grandfather did his cowardly-retreat thing, and he and most of his family line got put to death for it."

"Your mother…your uncles…" Usze could not imagine the horror of having his whole family wiped out in a single blow.

"My mom was already dead. She died of complications from laying her second fertilized egg. The egg…wasn't viable. It would have been twins."

It wasn't uncommon for double-yolk eggs to damage the mothers, due to the eggs' size, nor for one or both twins to die before or soon after hatching.

"But yeah, my uncles were all killed, and their younger children as well. Any of the children who'd survived long enough to make it to War College or Finishing School, or beyond, were allowed to live, but they were all branded with the Mark of Punishment. Most of my cousins preferred suicide to a life of shame." N'tho swallowed. "My consort said he couldn't cope with the idea of being involved with a shamed creature like myself and ended the relationship." He buried his muzzle in Usze's throat.

"That's over," Usze soothed, pressing gently on the bandage taped over N'tho's fresh wound.

N'tho cuddled for a while, then drew a deep breath. "The second guy….what an asshole. He was a soldier from the 58th, stationed on the same ship as myself and the rest of the 812th. We hung out together, had some good times...then he said he loved me and asked if I wanted to go with him to Chy'ari on leave, just me and him. I should have been doing work, but after what he said to me, I pulled some strings and went, and we had a great time. But when we got back to the ship, the next thing I knew, there was a new unit arrived on board—I think it was the 323rd—and my mate was fooling around with all the new guys while I was getting bitched out for skipping out on work. I confronted him about it, and he laughed in my face. Said he just wanted someone to party with on leave, and I was a fool for taking him seriously. I should've known better but I really wanted it to be true, you know, I really wanted to think someone could love me for what I am…so I ignored all the signs…

Usze lapped the tears from his eyes, coaxing him to continue. "And the third? Another asshole?"

"Yeah," N'tho said, snuggling closer. "Of course, he had the courtesy to warn me about that in advance…I'm more concerned that he's an assassin magnet…and if he gets himself killed it is going to suck so much…."

Usze felt N'tho's hot tears on his chest and realized who Nitro was talking about.

Of course. The realization hit 'Taham like a hammer. "You weren't fooling around because you don't love me," Usze murmured. "You were fooling around because you felt betrayed. Again. Am I right?"

N'tho nodded, tears staining his cheeks.

"Do you want me now?"

"Yes." N'tho sniffed. "You're the only one I want."

"Then you will have me." He licked away Nitro's tears. "You are forgiven. Let us have no more worry about your history."

"Can I be with you? To stay?" He reached into the box and gripped the two bracelets tightly.

"Nitro…"

"I love you, Uzi. And I want to be with you, no matter what happens."

"Nitro, I want nothing more."

They held each other. Tightly. They licked and nuzzled and rubbed and when they stopped for breath, N'tho was lying on top of Usze. A sharp shock of awareness shot through them both and they stared into one another's widening eyes.

"Hey….can I?" Nitro asked nervously.

"Will it hurt you?" Usze replied softly.

"Not if I'm the one mounting…"

"Yes," the Blademaster murmured, carefully positioning his legs outside of N'tho's, settling himself in position. "You may."

"Ready?" 'Sraom asked nervously; as always, he was so concerned about getting it just right.

Usze closed his eyes. "Yes."

N'tho entered him very gently; once in, Nitro seemed in no hurry to get on with it. He licked and cuddled his mate, appearing perfectly happy just to savour their union.

Usze wrapped his arms around Nitro and held him close. By the Rings, how he'd missed this. Only now did he dare examine his own heart and realize how grieved he'd been to think that he might never be with Nitro again.

That road, for good or ill, was closed now.

"You. Me. Together. Forever," Nitro whispered.

"Yes," Uzi replied, and their pact was sealed. "Against any odds, through joy and sorrow, in this world and the next."

With those words, Usze 'Taham realized that any bonding ceremony they might ever have would be done late, after the fact.

They were one.

Tonight.


	16. Chapter 17: History's Shadow

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Seventeenth: History's Shadow**

"N'tho!"

The loud, growling voice was shouting right next to his ear. He tried to ignore it, cuddling deeper under his sheets and the doarmir-fur cloak that served him as a blanket. Ignoring the sound was hard, though, when his pillow was being tugged out from under him.

"N'tho, what were you thinking?"

Nitro cracked open an eye. With a few blinks, the fuzzy shape standing before him resolved itself into Piro 'Kipaz.

"Bwa?" It was the most intelligent thing N'tho could manage to say. His tummy was sore from the alcohol of the previous day, his back was warmed by Usze's velvet hide and his brain…well…every time he felt the metal chain links moving over his wrist, his brain turned to mush with the unreality of it all.

"I told you not to bring your fuck buddies home." Piro's hands were on his hips as he scowled disapprovingly. "Wake up your friend and tell him to get the hell out."

Uzi stirred. "Nitro, what's…"

Piro grabbed Usze's pillow and wrenched it away. Usze's head impacted the headboard of the bunk with a hollow thud. "Ow!" Uzi barked.

"Piro!" N'tho protested.

"Out!" Piro ordered.

"Piro, wait," N'tho pleaded, sitting up in the bed.

Usze flipped over with lethal speed, lunging for his blade resting on the end table. N'tho caught him in the chest with both hands, pushing him back into the bunk. "Uzi, no! It's just Piro."

Usze peered up at Nitro and Piro with those strange, exotic, mismatched eyes—emerald and amber. His cheeks purpled.

Then he pulled the doarmir-fur cloak over his head.

"Piro, you're freaking him out," Nitro said. "Leave him alone."

"That's…that's the Blademaster?" Piro stammered, staring at the purple lump in the bed.

"Yeah, and I'll bet you my dessert for a week that he's never been caught naked in someone's bunk before." N'tho smiled. Cool metal shifted over his wrist. "Piro," N'tho whispered. "Look." He held up his arm for Piro to see.

Piro frowned. "Is that Human?" He leaned forward to examine the engraved plate on the bracelet and his mandibles all dropped open. He stared questioningly at Nitro.

Nitro smiled softly. "Yeah. It's real." 'Kipaz was clearly flabbergasted. N'tho smirked. "So please, Piro, stop terrorizing my mate."

Piro stumbled backward, flushed. "I…well. I'm going to step out for a few moments so you two can dress. Then I will return to offer my congratulations. Excuse me." Drawing up his dignity, the old soldier opened the door to the hall and closed it after him.

N'tho pulled the cloak off his mate. "Hurry up, Uzi. When he says a few moments, he means it." N'tho darted into the head and tossed Usze's jumpsuit out into the bedroom. The Blademaster still looked embarrassed as he dressed, but every time he peeked over at Nitro, he was smiling.

They had barely gotten their suits on before Piro returned. "Now, let me offer you two my hearty congratulations." He shot a glare at Usze. "I'm trusting you to take care of N'tho here."

"Piro," Usze said urgently. "I've got assassins after me. I shouldn't be staying in your quarters. You're in danger if I do." He swallowed hard. "You probably won't be happy to hear that N'tho is determined to stay with me, no matter the risks."

Piro sighed and took a seat on his immaculate bunk. "I'm not going to live forever," he said. "Someone has to look after N'tho when I'm gone." His gaze travelled from one Sangheili to the other. "If you think he's worth the risk, N'tho, then I am not about to berate you for your choice. From the way you wear that bracelet before we've even had a formal ceremony, I doubt I could change your mind anyway." He set his mandibles. "We can only fight on from here."

While Usze related the story of the events in the Arbiter's quarters, and his reason for turning his back on the Ascetics, N'tho thought hard and came up with an idea. By the time 'Taham finished, Nitro had the details ironed out. He turned to Usze. "We can hide you."

Uzi scowled. "A warrior does not _hide_."

"Wait." Piro stroked his mandibles thoughtfully. "When I came in here, I did not recognize you."

"Exactly," N'tho said smugly. "Has anyone in the fleet seen you without your helmet, besides N'tho and myself?"

Usze thought hard. "Ki 'Chaz and Aj 'Qorop." He felt his stomach sink. "And Zhaal 'Lymux."

"Ki and Aj are no problem," N'tho said. "They owe me for getting them together. But Zhaal…"

"I think I can scare Zhaal into keeping his mouth shut." Usze wrung his hands. "So then what?"

"Then all you need to do," N'tho explained, "is get some SpecOps armour. Rycl and Vaa are getting plenty of new SpecOps recruits in, and a Blademaster would surely have sufficient talent to meet SpecOps requirements. If you pose as one of the new recruits, you can disappear in plain sight."

Usze nodded thoughtfully. It just might work…and it would keep him close to N'tho. It wouldn't solve the assassin problem, but hopefully, given time, the Arbiter would crush the rebellion and the Ascetics' assassins, with nobody to pay them for their victory, would give up on hunting him. There was only one challenge…other than not pounding the excrement out of Subcommander 'Moiril, especially if he hit on Nitro again…

"Where am I going to get armour? Piro, your red armour is the wrong rank and unit, and I can't fit N'tho's." N'tho was taller and broader across the shoulders than Usze.

Nitro shrugged. "Fil will set you up."

Usze scowled. "Fil Storamy. Yes, there's a good idea. She's probably still waiting to duel me. Or punch me right in the face."

Nitro clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing else you can do, Uzi. You're going to have to go down there, apologize to her, explain the situation, and promise her some favours if she'll set you up with some SpecOps armour." He winked. "Tell her to do it for me."

"Can't you come with me?"

Nitro shook his head. "I checked my comm when you were in the head. Rycl 'Otsed wants me on honour guard duty today." He rubbed his lower mandibles. "But I have an idea how you can get to the storerooms. Put on your jumpsuit and your old armour, but skip the helmet. Then put this on over it." He pulled the cloak off his bed. "Wrap yourself up in that and just give that, you know, that _look_ of yours to anyone who stares at you."

"What look?"

"The look that makes people feel like complete fools for even daring to question your high and mighty self."

Usze sighed. "I suppose having an oversized ego has its uses."

"Yeah." Nitro grinned. "If you walk down the corridor like that, nobody's going to say anything. Just make sure you drop the attitude before you see Fil."

*

Two hours later, N'tho was standing at attention in the hangar bay across from Ki 'Chaz. The two SpecOps Minor Domos had been summoned by Subcommander 'Moiril to act as an honour guard, but 'Moiril had not told them the occasion.

Nitro tried to hide his unease as he watched Epse 'Gamul prowling around the bay. Fortunately, 'Gamul appeared to be too busy talking to Rycl 'Otsed and Vaa 'Moiril. N'tho wished that Vaa had become Commander instead of Rycl, but there was no way Vaa would be made Commander when he'd spent so little time as Subcommander.

The doors opened to admit a Phantom. N'tho watched the Phantom maneuver into the bay and dock, guided by a group of Grunts with glowing directional pointers.

"'Sraom!" 'Gamul barked. "You will escort our guest to my stateroom."

"Sir!" N'tho replied.

And, mercifully, that was the end of it, as 'Gamul left with 'Otsed at his heels.

The door of the Phantom opened, and N'tho found himself struggling not to stare at the figure that stepped out of it.

He was tall, and lean, and moved with a fluid grace that would not be unbecoming of a dancer; but he stepped from the ship with an unshakeable aura of authority. He wore a doramir-hide cloak in a rich bold claret purple covering his armour, but N'tho noted a claret helmet with two distinctive blade adornments on the sides tucked under one arm. He had an energy sword strapped to either hip and a plasma rifle in a leg holster. His gaze swept over N'tho and Ki and he evaluated them with the discerning eye of a judge who held their very lives in his hand.

N'tho and Ki bowed as one when the new arrival moved forwards. N'tho felt his tongue catch in his throat, and so 'Chaz spoke first. "Minor Domos 'Chaz and 'Sraom welcome you aboard _Shadow of Intent_, sir."

The newcomer laughed softly. "Do you two have any idea who I am?"

"Judging by your helmet, sir, I would presume you are an Ascetic," Ki guessed.

The newcomer turned his head towards N'tho. Up close, Nitro saw that one of his eyes was the colour of fossilized amber; the other was a sickly, bilous green.

"'Sumai," N'tho whispered.

"I see you recognize the hallmark of my lineage." The older Sangheili bowed with a cruel smile. "My name is Toha 'Sumai, Blademaster Liason to the Ascetic Temple of Sanghelios."

"An honour, sir," Nitro said, trying to act casual…or at least as casual as any Minor Domo would be in front of a highly decorated Swordsman…while inside his mind was racing.

The Ascetics had sent an assassin, all right, and not just any gun for hire. They'd sent one of their own. One of their best.

They'd sent Usze's own father.

*

Usze 'Taham stood before the Chief Quartermaster's door, feeling as though he were standing before his executioner.

For a moment he considered walking away. He could swallow his pride and hide in Nitro's quarters, ask Nitro and Piro to bring him food… Then he realized that he might, indeed, be facing imminent execution. He could not conceal himself in a stateroom forever. His best chance was to take a new name and a new identity and blend back into the fleet.

Usze knocked.

"Come in," Fil's rough voice called.

Usze swallowed to steady his nerves, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

Fil, in full lavender armour, half-spun in a swivel chair to see her guest. When her eyes met those of the visitor, she raised her eyebrow ridges curiously and got to her feet.

"It's Usze 'Taham," he said quietly. "I came to apologize."

She stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. Usze bit down on his mandibles so as not to allow any of his irritated, sardonic, abrasive thoughts to escape from his mouth.

Fil looked him up and down and said, "That exceptionally flamboyant cloak suggests all-new heights for your massive ego."

Uzi replied, "I was attempting to aim for all-new camouflage to hide my claret armour. So much for concealment."

"Yeah," Fil said thoughtfully. "I heard some folks are homicidally displeased with you right now."

Word apparently travelled fast.

"Are you one of them?" By the Rings, Nitro would make a comment like that.

"You're a bit of a stuck-up prig," she replied, blunt as ever, "but 'Gamul and 'Jar Wattin are worse."

*

Ki took point, with N'tho falling into step behind Toha. Nitro struggled to think of a way to warn Usze.

He could jump on Toha now, but even if he caught the old bastard by surprise, he knew that Toha had power armour on. He didn't trust himself to be able to lop off Toha's head in a single blow, and besides, there was Ki to think about. Ki might be his friend, but he doubted Ki would just stand by and watch him attack Toha 'Sumai.

No, his usual style of charging-in-shooting would not work here. He had to be cunning, like Uzi.

He might even be misjudging Toha. Could a father really kill his own son? N'tho didn't know who his father was; many Sangheili did not. Usze was clearly the product of 'Sumai lineage, but that did not mean he'd ever had a personal relationship with his father. It was probably Usze's unusual physical features—proving that his mother's husband was not his biological father—coupled with Toha's fame, that had revealed the secret of Usze's parentage to one and all.

Traditionally, a Sangheili only found out his father's identity upon the death of his mother, when she was no longer living to approve or deny mating requests. The role of the sire's mother in breeding arrangements was to prevent accidental breeding between half-siblings, or father and daughter, or other close relatives. It was for this reason that knowledge of parentage was passed on at the mother's death.

N'tho's mother had not left that information behind. She had taken her knowledge of N'tho's father to her grave. In fact, none of the 'Sraoms knew—they had never seen N'tho's mother with any male—and as a result, many of the 'Sraoms had made cutting remarks that N'tho's father must have been a commoner, at best. The favourite theory was that N'tho's sire was his own grandfather, the coward.

N'tho was going to enjoy returning to the 'Sraom keep and flashing his medals from the Halo mission around. Maybe that would shut his horrible relatives up for a while.

Then N'tho heard Toha speaking to Ki and remembered that he had a job to do. Distraction would not help Usze. He had to let Usze know that Toha was on the ship…

N'tho reached into his storage pocket, found his comm link, and palmed it in his hand. As he walked along behind Toha 'Sumai, he typed in Usze's address and set the link to audio.

"Blademaster 'Sumai," N'tho said loudly.

'Sumai looked over his shoulder, scowling.

"I served with your son, Usze 'Taham. On the Halo mission."

Toha's eyes narrowed. "You and my son are battle brothers?"

"Actually…" N'tho hung his head. "I'm afraid we didn't get along very well."

"Yes, I gathered that from reading your reports." Toha's eyes sparkled as if sharing some kind of horrible joke.

"You read my reports?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Shipmaster 'Gamul was kind enough to allow me some excerpts." His eyes narrowed. "My son was apparently corrupted by his time on Earth. He thinks we should be understanding of failure and tolerant of fools. You do not think that way, do you, 'Sraom and 'Chaz? You two surely understand that those with power have both a right and a duty to use it, and those without power have two choices—to better themselves or to fall to the bottom of the heap and suffer the consequences?"

"Yes, sir," Ki replied.

N'tho hoped Ki didn't really believe that; on the other hand, disagreeing with Toha would be a very bad idea. "Yes, sir," N'tho parrotted.

"Excellent. Lead on, then."

Then N'tho's thoughts turned in a different direction. How had Toha 'Sumai found out what Usze and the Arbiter had discussed in the privacy of the Arbiter's quarters? N'tho only knew because Uzi had told him that morning; Toha knew before he'd even disembarked.

N'tho winced as he realized the answer. Toha had been speaking with Epse. How had the entire ship found out about N'tho's sexual escapades?

_Epse 'Gamul and the shipboard security cameras._

Epse had the authority to get into almost any part of the ship. He'd doubtlessly put a camera in the Arbiter's quarters when the Arbiter wasn't around.

_Oh, shit. Does he have a camera in my quarters?_

Ordinarily N'tho would have thought that he and Piro didn't merit the security attentions of an executive officer, but 'Gamul had it out for him, and…

"You are dismissed," 'Sumai said.

N'tho awoke as if in a daze. They'd reached 'Gamul's stateroom. "What are we doing here?" N'tho whispered.

Ki shrugged. "The Shipmaster told me to bring our guest here. Let's go."

"Not you," Toha said, gripping N'tho by his shoulder. "Just 'Chaz."

Ki saluted and turned away.

Toha gave N'tho a slight dip of his head. "After you."

Feeling suddenly uneasy, N'tho stepped through the doorway.

On one side of the room stood Rycl 'Otsed. On the other side of the room stood a second Sangheili: Zhaal 'Lymux. At the back was a coldly smiling Shipmaster 'Gamul.

N'tho realized he was in even more trouble than he'd thought. He hesitated in the doorway, reluctant to go forward any farther. He wondered if he had time to run..

Then N'tho heard the crackle of an energy sword igniting.

He felt the heat of the blade near his right cheek, only a finger's breadth away from his skin. The light blazed into his eye; he squinted it shut. He instinctively turned his head to the left—only to ram his muzzle into the flat of a second blade that leapt to life moments after the first. N'tho howled as his hide burned; he threw his head up to get both sides of his face away from the heat of the swords.

As a Blademaster, Usze would of course have trained in the use of two swords. But in combat, N'tho had only ever seen him use one. Similarly, Rtas 'Vadum could fight with two, but preferred one…

Toha appeared to be that rare kind of warrior who preferred the double-blade configuration.

N'tho leaped into the room, hoping to get some distance between him and Toha to enable him to turn around. Unfortunately, the leap just took him closer to 'Gamul. N'tho ducked swiftly to the side and turned to face Toha 'Sumai.

'Sumai stood there, swords blazing. Sangheili never drew blades unless they meant to draw blood.

N'tho would not go down without a fight. He scrabbled for his sword hilt.

Then something hit him sharply on the back of the neck and his world went black.


	17. Chapter 18: Honour's Sacrifice

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Eighteenth: Honour's Sacrifice**

"Nitro suggested I ask you for new armour," Usze said contritely to Fil Storamy, as he stood with his head bowed in the Quartermaster's storeroom domain. "Something that would let me blend into the new SpecOps recruits."

"Gonna take more than that."Fil hadn't thrown a punch at him yet, but she was still clearly unhappy with him for the way he'd tried to pull rank on her at their first meeting.

Usze swallowed his pride. "N'tho told me I would owe you favours and I am willing to comply."

"No, I mean on your end. More work to hide you. Those eyes of yours just scream 'Sumai. I suggest you wear a patch over one of 'em. Depending on how hardcore you are, you might consider gouging one out."

His mandibles dropped.

"Sorry," Fil said, sounding not very sorry at all. "Two different eye colours equals 'Sumai Keep. It's that easy."

"I'll take the patch," Usze mumbled.

"Another thing. You need records. If you try to fit into SpecOps, eventually someone's going to notice that you have no past history."

"I don't know what I can do about that," Usze muttered.

"I do. Falsified records, then we hack the system and drop 'em in."

Usze paled. "You can do that?"

"Can. Have." She shot him a glance. "Will, if you pay me enough."

'Taham couldn't stop himself. "By the Rings, do you have any respect for regulations whatsoever?"

"Not particularly."

Usze sighed. "I should probably be grateful for it."

Fil considered him carefully and then smiled. "Yes. You should."

"What do I owe you?"

"We'll have to see about that. Anything you'd rather die than do?"

Usze was trying to think of a tactful way to ask if any of her "favours" involved breeding when his comm unit began to vibrate against his thigh. "Excuse me a second. I've got an incoming message." Usze pulled out his comm unit and frowned; his instincts were telling him something bad was coming.

It was an audio file from Nitro. At first there was nothing but dead air. Then he heard Nitro speaking: "Blademaster 'Sumai" and "your son, Usze 'Taham."

Usze paled.

Fil, ever perceptive, saw him falter. "What is it?"

"The Ascetics," he whispered, suddenly frightened. "They sent my father. Blademaster Toha 'Sumai."

The Chief Quartermaster frowned. "Do us all a favour and don't duel him."

"What?" Usze was completely bewildered. How could he not duel an assassin, his own father?

Fil pointed at the sign hanging over her door.

WE FIGHT DUELS

DUELS HAVE RULES  
"No," she said quietly. "You need to _slaughter _him."

Usze gaped at her.

The Chief Quartermaster got to her feet, her eyes shining ferally. "You cannot afford to play by your old rules of honour, Usze 'Taham. The issue at hand is not whether you or your father is the better Swordsman. The issue at hand is the future of all Sangheili. What will we be? A united people, standing as one against a hostile galaxy? Or a thornbeast that eats her own young, preying on our own kind until we all fall together?"

'Taham recognized his own words. It must have shown on her face, because Fil grinned smugly. "'Gamul's not the only one who can access the ship security cameras." She turned to her associate, the Jackal. "Kip. Find Toha 'Sumai on the security cameras. Sangheili Ascetic with different-coloured eyes." The Quartermaster hesitated. "Find N'tho 'Sraom of SpecOps as well."

Usze was still uncomfortable with her suggestion. "Just because I dislike their philosophy, it makes it acceptable for me to cheat?"  
Fil's expression softened. "Put it this way, Usze. If battle skill were all it took, Admiral 'Jar Wattin could challenge the Arbiter to a duel and we would be ruled by the victor. But 'Jar Wattin, fine fighter though he is, is not doing that. Instead he plans political machinations with the Ascetics and the Priestesses. Instead he asks you to slay the Arbiter in his sleep."

She rose from her chair and picked up her gravity hammer, a prize she had taken from the Brutes on the Delta Halo when they had turned on the Sangheili. She paced the room now, gripping the hammer in both hands. "If Toha and 'Gamul and the Ascetics had their way, I wouldn't have this job. I'd be on my knees in a breeding chamber somewhere. You think females have it bad in this fleet now? That's nothing to what 'Jar Wattin wants to do. The only reason there's female staff on our ships at all is because the Prophets wanted more male warriors—too many to let us fill our support roles with males. Hence, female support staff. I am not going back to our Dark Ages, Usze of the house of 'Taham. Admiral 'Jar Wattin's coup will fail or I will die fighting."

"The Priestesses?" Usze frowned. "I thought 'Jar Wattin's rule would strip females of the powers they have."

"Too many Priestesses are willing to settle with 'Jar Wattin to simply keep the powers they already have—powers they fear to lose now that our religious beliefs are in transition—while the rest of the females are brought low. But the females of the Home Guard are with the Arbiter. They will fight to win more freedoms."

'Taham didn't even ask how she knew all this. It was clear that Fil Storamy had her own sources, her own methods, and that she was a complete and utter rogue, more dangerous than he'd ever suspected. But there was one thing he could be grateful for.

She was on his side.

*

When N'tho woke up, he found himself in chains.

There were steel cuffs on his wrists, each attached to the floor by a short length of chain. The chains were too short for him to stand; it was awkward even to squat or kneel. The only positions he could comfortably hold would be on all fours, or lying down.

His armour was gone. His comm link and weapons had been taken away as well. Most of his clothing was also missing, cut away from the looks of it, including the bandage that had covered his skinless shoulder. He still had the remains of his bodysuit on his hands, held in position by the cuffs, torn at the edges into gloves. He breathed a sigh of relief to see his bracelet still encircling his lower arm. Otherwise he was naked. He shivered, feeling the cold air on his hide.

N'tho remained lying down for now, feigning unconsciousness to buy himself time to think.

He was still in Epse 'Gamul's stateroom. He could hear Epse and Toha speaking. He wasn't sure if Rycl and Zhaal were in the room as well, but he was willing to bet that they were. He didn't think he'd been out for very long.

N'tho forced his mind to think through the pain of his burned muzzle. Toha 'Sumai had come to fight Usze. And Toha had two swords. Two fucking swords.

It was rare for Sangheili to fight with two blades. It took an exceedingly talented swordsman to control two swords at the same time; most swordsmen only ever mastered the use of one. In battle it was better to use one weapon which you were skilled with than two which you were not; those not practiced in the use of twin blades often paid too much attention to their technique and not enough attention to their opponents, with deadly consequences.

N'tho remembered a video he'd seen shortly after joining SpecOps. On the film, Subcommander Kusovai—Rtas 'Vadum's deceased mate—had demonstrated what happened when a warrior with a single sword went up against a master of the twin blades.

The fights had always been short. Kusovai would catch his opponent's blade on one of his, holding it out of action; then he'd bring his other sword around in a slash that would usually have eviscerated his opponent had the fight been for real. Sometimes Kusovai demonstrated how the free second blade could be used to cripple the opponent's leg, or cut the opponent's sword arm clear off. Once he showed how the second blade could be unleashed at point-blank range—he'd done it over his opponent's shoulder, but noted how moving his hand a few inches to the side would have sent the prongs springing between the bottom of his adversary's mandibles and right up into his brain.

Usze was a great Swordsman, but N'tho felt a chill in his belly when he imagined Uzi duelling Toha 'Sumai.

N'tho was trying to think of his next step when he felt a jarring kick in his head.

"Wake up, filth," Toha 'Sumai was saying.

N'tho let his fear turn to anger; it was easier that way. "What game are you playing?" He jangled his chains. "Sangheili don't take prisoners."

"Sangheili rarely take prisoners," Toha corrected him. "Every situation has its…exceptions." 'Gamul smirked at him from behind Toha's shoulder.

"This doesn't seem very honourable of you," N'tho said, squirming while his brain sought buttons to push. "Isn't that what you old-school Sangheili are all about? Your honour? Where's the honour in this? Why don't you let me out of these chains so we can fight warrior to warrior?"

Toha laughed, cold and malicious. "I don't want to fight you, you pathetic Unggoy-spawn." The Shipmaster paced restlessly behind him, driven by an infernal energy. "I know that you would lose. You know it as well."

"At least I would have a chance to die with honour."

"Oh, don't worry, little warrior. You very well might. But first…there's the matter of my wayward son. Usze has already sold his honour to betray the Ascetics to the Arbiter. He is a coward. He would run from me. He would make me chase him across the universe and beyond. But Shipmaster 'Gamul assures me that Usze will not run away as long as I hold you. No, my dear…what does he call you? Nitro? As long as I have you, Usze will have to come to me. And when he comes to me, I will kill him."

"Usze's a fucking Blademaster," N'tho said, a tremor in his voice. "Are you so sure you can beat him?"

"I am also, as you call it, a fucking Blademaster," Toha retorted, delivering a sharp kick to N'tho's ribs.

"What happened to your Mark of Punishment?" 'Gamul asked, slapping him on his barely-scabbed shoulder.

"Mark of…" Toha hissed.

"We should give him another one," 'Gamul replied. "Perhaps right on the snout."

Toha looked disgusted. "This…creature…is Usze's mate?" He ran his claws over N'tho's bloody shoulder, making N'tho close his eyes as he struggled not to let any sounds escape his mouth. The exotic claws that Usze used to gently scratch, to tease, to stimulate his nerve endings were used by Toha to inflict suffering and pain.

"This creature is half the ship's mate," 'Gamul laughed. "Isn't that right, Rycl?"

Rycl 'Otsed turned his face away in shame.

'Gamul ran a proprietory hand over N'tho's bare ass as he walked around him to approach 'Toha. "My most esteemed visitor, Toha 'Sumai…" He smiled wickedly. "Would you care to sample N'tho for yourself?"

Nitro's eyes widened in horror as he took in the meaning of that statement. He fought against the restraints, jerking his wrists back and forth with all the strength he could muster, but though he succeeded in cutting his skin and setting his wrists to oozing blood, he could not tear the cuffs free of their chains.

Across the room, Rycl was looking at him. The SpecOps commander's expression seemed apologetic, but Rycl did not say a single word in protest. Meanwhile, Zhaal was watching everything with an undisguised glee.

Toha made a disgusted face. For once N'tho was grateful to be a dirty slut of a warrior.

"N'tho is…not to my tastes," 'Sumai replied. "Get me a female."

"Of course," 'Gamul replied. "Rycl, get the Blademaster a female. As for me…if you're not interested in 'Sraom here…" He leaned over close to N'tho's earbud. "I think it's time for me to find out what Rycl and Usze find so appealing about you."

_Oh, by all the Gods, no._

"Maybe after I'm done, I'll let Zhaal have a turn," 'Gamul purred. "Would you like that, Zhaal?"

Zhaal grinned, apparently willing to accept 'Gamul's seconds if it meant the chance to humiliate N'tho further. "Yes, sir."

"It's settled, then," Toha said smoothly. "First we shall have ourselves some entertainment. Then we can send a message to my wayward son and wait for him to come here to save his favourite bed-warmer, and I will cut him down like the fool he is."

"And I have the perfect way to send that message," 'Gamul replied. "Something that will send Usze 'Taham running up here, blind with anger. It just so happens that I have a camera."

*

"Quartermaster," Kip the Jackal said, startling Usze from his reverie. "Sorry to interrupt," he added as Usze glared at him, "but there's something coming up on the monitors that you two might want to see."

Fil hit a bunch of buttons on her computer and an image bloomed to life.

"What is this?" Usze breathed.

"I've got a tap into _Shadow of Intent_'s security systems." She shot Uzi a look. "No, it's not authorized, yes, the Arbiter knows, no, he doesn't care. Besides, you might be grateful," she added as she selected an image and clicked. "This is from inside 'Gamul's stateroom."

There was picture and sound. Usze felt his guts turn over as he recognized N'tho, minus most of his clothing, chained to the floor. He struggled not to become physically sick as 'Gamul and 'Sumai casually discussed their entertainment of choice.

"We have to get Nitro out of there," Fil said grimly.

Usze swallowed his rising gorge, willing his stomach's contents to stay down. "Fil, that's what they want. They want us to go charging up there, swords blazing and hearts raging, and when we get there they're going to cut us to pieces."

"They won't be expecting me."

"Do you think you can take 'Gamul?"

"Probably." She hesitated. "Maybe." She hesitated again. "He is pretty good. And his quarters are pretty crowded for two pairs of fighters. And that craven rat Rycl is there. He could kill Nitro while we're fighting. Or Zhaal could."

"Yes." His guts twisted. "I…I don't think I can take 'Sumai. Not two swords against one."

"I can give you another sword."

"I don't know if I'm good enough with two. My father…he's a master."

"That's your father with Gamul, Rycl and Zhaal?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

_Shit _pretty much summed it up.

Usze's thoughts raced. "We have an advantage. They want to send me a video after the fact, but we know now, and that gives us some extra time. We could set up an ambush. I could get Piro and Ki and Aj, and you could pull in some favours, and we could enter that room in force. Maybe you could get the Grunts to roll knockout gas grenades through the vents; anything to stack the odds in our favour. Then, when I actually receive that video on my comm link and go up there in response, I can take an army with me."

"Ordinarily I'd agree with you, but your plan's got a problem, Usze. If you wait to get that video over your comm link…" she gestured to the screen, "…'Gamul will have already had his way with Nitro."

The logical, Ascetic-raised part of Usze's mind was telling him calmly and rationally that it was just sex. Nitro had had sex plenty of times before—rough sex, even. Wasn't it more important to make sure the both of them survived this encounter? Usze wasn't going to be angry at Nitro for having had sex with Epse. Nitro could handle anything Epse did to him.

But what Usze saw on the monitor told him a different story.

N'tho's mandibles were flared wide in horror, as though he were screaming, but there was no sound coming out. No wild laughter, no screams of terror, but a horror that had completely silenced him. His wrists were bleeding from his struggles to get free. His eyes leaked a single tear.

Then his mandibles moved and though no sound emerged, Usze knew what he was saying.

_Uzi. Help me. Please._

And Uzi's heart strangled that logical voice into silence.

He could not stand here and watch his _bondmate _get raped.

That was Nitro, his hero, who turned that Mongoose around on the Omega Halo and almost died himself in his mad insistence on rescuing Uzi from the Blademaster's own mistake. There had been no logic in N'tho's decision. There had been only love and a certainty that he would rather die than abandon Uzi in his time of need.

Usze 'Taham reached into his storage compartment, took out the bracelet with his and Nitro's names on it, and closed it around his wrist.

It was time for him to be worthy of his bondmate.


	18. Chapter 19: 'Sraom's Peril

Author's note: This chapter has had some graphic descriptions trimmed from the original version (mostly Epse 'Gamul's and Zhaal's threats—nothing actually happens in the original version that does not happen here); however, it still includes mature language and non-consensual situations. Sensitive readers be forewarned.

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Nineteenth: 'Sraom's Peril**

_Uzi. Help me. Please._

N'tho had been certain that falling from the sky aboard _Forward Unto Dawn_ would always be the most terrifying experience of his life. But it was nothing next to the thought of being raped on camera by Shipmaster Epse 'Gamul, and then the video sent to Uzi to lure him to his death.

He knew Shipmaster 'Gamul would let him live long enough to watch Usze die.

N'tho struggled against the chains, but he knew already from his bleeding wrists that he could not break the chains, or tear them free from the ring on the floor, or slip his hands through the cuffs.

He had to stop thinking about escaping and start thinking about protecting Usze.

'Gamul was on the other side of the room, fiddling with his camera and equipment. Rycl was standing nearby, fidgeting uneasily, carrying on a sickeningly banal conversation with the Shipmaster about lighting and glare. N'tho cold not see Toha, though he hoped the Blademaster had found something to keep him busy. Right now, Nitro had a brief opportunity involving the individual standing guard before him. Zhaal 'Lymux, the miserable bastard, was cruel and quick-tempered and bored. N'tho hoped to take advantage of that.

"Hey. Zhaal."

The Major Domo looked down at him with an expression of disdain.

"Stuck on guard duty 'cause you're too dumb to work a camera?" N'tho asked innocently.

"Shut up, 'Sraom. It appears I'm going to get to fuck you after all." Zhaal leered.

"Yep, right after 'Gamul." N'tho winked. "You do that a lot? Follow officers around, licking up their spilled seed, trying to pretend the eggs they sire are yours?"

Zhaal lost his grin and started to scowl.

N'tho knew a lot of insults, but the ones that hurt the most were the ones with a grain of truth. Nitro cast a line to see if Zhaal would bite.

"Hey, you and Ki 'Chaz looked pretty friendly on the Ark. What went wrong?"

Zhaal's scowl deepened.

Direct hit.

"I guess Aj 'Qorop is just that much better in bed than you."

"Shut up," Zhaal growled.

"Maybe you should ask Aj if he'd let you have his seconds too."

"I said, shut up!"

"Aj is pretty great in bed, though, and I would know. He'd be a hard act for you to follow. I have to say, I'd rather just have Aj twice."

Zhaal drew his energy sword, eyes bright with rage. "Close your mouth or I'll put this right through you!"

"You mean the way you go around stabbing corpses to get blood on your blade, so it looks like you actually killed something? By the Rings, even with a Mark of Punishment, I could still get kills…then again, I'm the slut and you're the incompetant coward, isn't that right?"

Zhaal appeared on the verge of lunging when Toha 'Sumai shot across the room and backhanded Zhaal across the face. "Don't be stupid," Toha growled, his voice perfectly controlled despite his obvious displeasure. "'Sraom is making you angry on purpose."

"What?"

Toha put his muzzle right up against the Major Domo's. "He wants you to kill him, you idiot."

"Why would he want to die?" Zhaal wasn't getting it.

"Because if you stick your sword through his guts and he dies, we lose our bait, and my miserable son disappears."

"He won't get off this ship. He's not a pilot."

Toha backhanded Zhaal again. "That's for your insubordination." A third slap. "And that's for your profound idiocy. He could hijack a ship. Or hide away in a Phantom. Or take an escape pod. Or call his traitor associates for help. Now leave the thinking to those of us with brains and do as you are told! Where's that girl?"

There was a soft knocking on the door.

N'tho, desperately, muttered up at Zhaal. "Idiot."

Zhaal glared at him, but did not move. Nitro's plan to get himself killed had failed.

The door opened and there stood a slight Sangheili female dressed in the white robes of a nurse. N'tho felt sick as he realized that he knew her: she'd been a regular at Fil Storamy's crud game. What was her name? Kya Pomoraa—Pomor, N'tho corrected himself, because she would not be using the –aa suffix denoting Covenant military service any longer.

Kya's eyes widened when she saw Nitro, naked, chained to the floor.

"Kya," N'tho croaked, "get out of here!"

Too late. Toha grabbed Kya's arm, yanked her into the room, and closed and locked the door behind her. Kya struggled to break free of Toha's grip. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, trying to sound outraged, succeeding only in sounding frightened.

"Hello there," Toha practically purred. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Toha 'Sumai, Blademaster."

Kya's attention was divided between the Blademaster's face and the sight of Nitro chained to the floor. "What has happened to 'Sraom?"

"Oh, him? I've just stripped him of his sword, as is my right as Blademaster." Toha grinned at N'tho before returning his attention to Kya.

She struggled to keep her voice cool as she said, "Rycl 'Otsed commed me and told me there was someone here in need of medical attention. I see 'Sraom on the floor, in chains, bleeding. I appreciate your attention, Blademaster, but it is time for me to do my job."

Toha sniffed at Kya. "You're coming into season," he murmured.

The nurse fixed him with a disparaging look. "Did you call me here to heal or to breed?"

The Blademaster smiled, showing all his teeth.

Kya's eyes widened in horrified understanding. "Sir, I am flattered," she stammered, "but…"

"Come with me."

"Sir, the Arbiter forbids forced mating in his fleet…" Kya planted her feet. Toha tugged her shoulder strongly enough to send her staggering into his chest.

"The Arbiter is no longer in charge of this fleet. This fleet belongs to Imperial Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin, and Wattin says…"

Kya's mandibles slowly recited, "That a powerful warrior may take what he desires." N'tho could smell Kya's fear as Toha caught her and pulled her close, too close. Kya put her hands on his chest and tried to shove herself away. "Blademaster, I am in the middle of a tour of duty! I cannot stop my work to bear an egg—the whole ship will suffer! And besides, sir, I am not worthy of you."

"I will decide that." 'Sumai caught each of her wrists in his hands. "And my decision is that you do not belong on your knees tending to a shamed warrior. You belong on your knees in my bed."

"No!"

Toha's gaze turned to ice. He wrenched Kya's wrists around behind her back. "Yes."

Kya's gaze flickered to Rycl in desperation before 'Sumai dragged her out of N'tho's field of vision, towards the stateroom bed. Technically it was 'Gamul's bed, but Toha didn't seem to care, and of course it would be no comfort to Kya either.

The SpecOps commander turned his face away.

N'tho saw another chance and jumped on it. "Rycl, you dirtbag, you aren't half the SpecOps Commander Rtas 'Vadum was. You aren't half the warrior Kusovai was. You don't even deserve to clean Commander 'Coradee's portrait, you pathetic excuse for a Sangheili."

Rycl, however, was too cowed to rise to the bait. He just stood there, head lowered, accepting N'tho's abuse.

'Gamul clicked some buttons on his computer. "Testing…" He'd apparently made a recording and was playing it back; N'tho could see his own image on the monitor berating Zhaal. 'Gamul appeared satisfied with what he saw.

The Shipmaster turned to Nitro with a vicious smile. "Showtime."

*

"Piro?" Usze said into his comm link. "Condemnation, Piro, answer me!"

The connection activated. "Piro 'Kipaz."

"Piro, it's Usze. 'Gamul's got N'tho in his stateroom in chains. Can you get up there, now?"

Fil Storamy interrupted him with a cuff on the shoulder. "Stop fidgeting!" she barked at Usze as she adjusted the harness on his back. "We have to get this right."

Usze held still and listened to Piro's reply.

"Yes," 'Kipaz answered.

"Piro, don't go in there without me. Is that understood? You have to wait for me." Usze swallowed as Fil draped the doarmir cape back around his shoulders.

"Understood."

"Can you get Ki 'Chaz and Aj 'Qorop?"

"'Qorop went on the mission with the Arbiter. I'll try to raise Ki."

"I'll meet you outside 'Gamul's quarters. Understood?"

"Understood, Blademaster."

Fil nodded. "I think we're go. Once you're in, I'm going to set off an alarm in the rear drive core. That should keep everyone's attention elsewhere. I'll take care of any other interruptions. Ready?"

Usze nodded. "Ready."

"Good hunting, Blademaster."

*

N'tho turned his head and saw out of the corner of his eye that Rycl 'Otsed was staring pointedly at the door, as if by refusing to watch he could deny his part in the victimization of Kya and Nitro—or perhaps even deny that any victimization was happening at all.

Usze couldn't see Kya or Toha, but from the occasional whimpers, thumping sounds, and strangled cries he heard behind him, he could guess that the options for Kya's fate were ranging between bad and worse.

Then Shipmaster 'Gamul approached him and, Ancestors forgive him, his thoughts for Kya were driven away by his fear for himself.

"Before we start filming," Epse murmured, "I'd like to make you a little deal."

"What kind of deal?" N'tho spit.

"It all depends…" The Shipmaster trailed a finger across N'tho's shoulders. "On how…cooperative…you feel."

"Right now, not very," Nitro hissed. He wondered if 'Gamul would be careless enough to let his finger stray in reach of Nitro's jaws. Would the Shipmaster be able to keep up his fake-seduction act after N'tho bit his finger off?

"So vulgar. Well, what can I expect of you." 'Gamul stroked N'tho's flanks, making the SpecOps warrior quiver in disgust. "Then let me be blunt. Do you wish to survive this encounter?"

He did. He wanted to live to go back to Uzi.

"You know we're going to kill 'Taham no matter what you do." He smiled. "You know I'm going to fuck you, no matter what you do. Yes?"

N'tho nodded. He knew.

"The big question on my mind is what I'm going to do with you afterwards. And this is where the choice is up to you."

Nitro reminded himself that he could not trust Epse's word, no matter what.

"I could kill you, dump your body in the garbage compactor along with Usze's, and the two of you could rot happily ever after…but you don't want that, do you, N'tho? You know how very many other warriors there are in this fleet. A fine soldier like you could find all sorts of other companions."

_Uzi. Uzi. Uzi._

"So…if you want to live…I want you to play for the camera. I want you to behave yourself: no thrashing or bucking. I want you to throw back your head and show the camera how much you're enjoying it." Epse grinned. "Say how I'm the best lover you ever had. Can you do that?"

N'tho thought he couldn't be any more sickened. He was wrong. He didn't even try to hold himself back as he turned his head and retched all over the Shipmaster.

'Gamul pulled back, revolted. "Zhaal. Clean that up."

Zhaal, who'd been pretending to watch the door while sneaking sidelong glances at Toha and Kya, tore his gaze away and did as he was ordered.

"I've had enough," Epse 'Gamul growled. "You'll regret that, 'Sraom." He stripped off his soiled armour, throwing it against the wall. "Rycl. Start that camera."

The SpecOps commander obeyed without question.

'Gamul, wearing just his battlesuit, sauntered up to Nitro's side and addressed the camera. "This is a special film which I would like to dedicate to former Blademaster Usze 'Taham. That's right, _former_ Blademaster. As of yesterday, Admiral Xytan 'Jar Wattin has officially stripped you of both your rank and your status as a Swordsman, as is his right as the head of the Sangheili military. Since you are wanted for treason and condemned to death by the Ascetics Council, I doubt you'll be keeping your poor lonely mate warm at night. You will be too busy running for your miserable life." He grinned at the camera. "And since I am such a generous individual, I wanted not only to assure you that I will do an excellent job keeping your mate satisfied, but also to show you just _how_ I plan to do it."

While 'Gamul rambled on, N'tho tried to keep his breathing steady and think. Sex. It was just sex. He'd had lots of sex before. Some of it had even been rough. Some of it he hadn't even wanted. What was the big deal about one more mate?

_I don't want anyone but Uzi ever again._

The thought of getting fucked by a complete asshole like Epse made him sick. And in the past, yes, he'd had sex when he was drunk, and he'd had sex with strangers, and he'd had sex where he'd more or less let it happen to him instead of actually giving consent…but he'd never been _raped_, never fought kicking and screaming while some evil bastard took him. Mastered him. It was this knowledge, this twin realization that he desperately didn't want this, and that Epse was determined to make it happen anyway, that struck him through with fear.

So while it would probably have been more logical to acquiesce and lay there quietly while Epse took what he wanted, N'tho instead found himself driven to fight.

He gathered his legs under him and stood there on all fours, keeping his breathing steady, waiting for the Shipmaster. Waiting for Epse to finish gloating at the camera and come around to the back of him.

Nitro tried not to quiver as the Shipmaster stroked his shoulders, his flanks. "He's very nice, 'Taham. He feels so tempting…" Gamul let his fingers stray down N'tho's spine and then farther down still. "I don't think I can keep away from him any longer."

From the corner of his eye he saw 'Gamul toss his battlesuit clear. The Shipmaster's hands gripped N'tho's hips. 'Gamul lowered himself down, lining up to mount, and…

And the fool didn't bother to bite his unwilling captive. Apparently 'Gamul didn't want to make this easy for Nitro; well, he would pay for that mistake.

N'tho lashed out, landing his hoof squarely on 'Gamul's kneecap. He wished he could see 'Gamul's face, but the Shipmaster's inability to hide his grunt of pain told him that the blow had hurt. N'tho only wished he could have been so sure at landing a kick in Epse's crotch; he'd have liked that even better.

'Gamul sucked in air. "Zhaal! Rycl!"

Zhaal tore his eyes away from the scene behind N'tho again. Rycl just looked miserable.

"I want you to teach 'Sraom some manners."

"Sir?" Rycl asked, dismayed, but Zhaal grinned.

"He means we get to beat them into him," Zhaal said, coming up on N'tho's left side.

'Gamul shook his head. "Shame on you, 'Sraom. Stop pretending to be a demure little virgin. Everyone knows what a slut you are."

"And sluts get a slapping," Zhaal grinned, and threw the first punch.

Rycl approached N'tho's right side and did the same.

Zhaal's blows were teeth-rattling, bone-jarring. The aches continued, seeping through his muscles and settling against his bones long after the initial hits had landed. N'tho could feel the bruises creeping out of his body and onto his skin.

Rycl's hits were significantly lighter. N'tho could see the SpecOps commander pulling his punches, trying to hit hard enough to satisfy 'Gamul and yet as softly as possible otherwise. N'tho felt a spike of anger. Rycl 'Otsed clearly had problems with 'Gamul's behaviour, and yet was doing nothing to change it.

"Hit me like you mean it," he growled at Rycl, "or leave me the hell alone, you fucking coward."

Rycl gritted his mandibles and kicked N'tho in the ribs, harder, but still not nearly as hard as he would have kicked an enemy in combat.

Zhaal, on the other hand, landed a kick to N'tho's other side that lifted him right off the ground, throwing him until his chains held him back, almost dislocating his arms, and his own momentum slammed him painfully into the ground. His wrists were bleeding freely now. Zhaal loomed over him. N'tho shut his eyes, protecting them as best he could from the blow he knew was coming.

Instead, 'Lymux bent down beside him and dropped his muzzle to N'tho's cheek. "When 'Gamul's done with you," he whispered in N'tho's earbud, "I'm going to put a chain around your neck, and mount you while I strangle you. I hope Usze's dueling Toha by then. I hope he gets his entrails spilled across the deck, so you two can watch each other die."

N'tho pushed his emotions across the border of fear, deep into the territory of rage. Bluster, however impotent, was his only weapon now against despair. And despair would do Usze no favours.

"I hope you spend the rest of your life licking up Epse's leavings."

N'tho wondered if Zhaal's next punch would snap his neck. For a second he was afraid it would. For a second he was afraid it would not. He couldn't breathe. His lungs were filled with fire.

The second fear triumphed as he finally caught his breath, just as he felt Epse's claws sinking into his hips again.

"Hold still, 'Sraom, or I will have them beat you into submission."

"Save your time and give the order, then," N'tho growled, throwing himself down and twisting, trying his best to throw off Epse's hold.

But 'Gamul yanked him backwards, until his arms were stretched out in front of him. Nitro could not get leverage to get up on his hands or even his elbows. He kicked, then found himself pressed to the floor, unable to get his knees under him again. Gamul was pressing one knees onto the backs of N'tho's thigh, and his hands were shoving down on N'tho's shoulders, and his other knee was trying to wedge N'tho's legs apart, and no, _no…_

But before Epse could enter him, there was the sound of a slamming door. 'Gamul's weight suddenly vanished. N'tho scrabbled to get up on all fours.

A tumult of grey and red cartwheeled across the floor; when it stopped, Epse 'Gamul was flat on his back, pinned there by an enraged Piro 'Kipaz.

And silhouetted in the doorway, wearing a purple doarmir-fur cloak, claret armour, and no helmet, stood Nitro's hero, Usze 'Taham.


	19. Chapter 20: 'Taham's War

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Twentieth: 'Taham's War**

When Usze saw Shipmaster 'Gamul pinning N'tho to the floor of the Shipmaster's stateroom, the both of them naked, and N'tho struggling against him, it was all Usze could do to not tackle Epse 'Gamul off Nitro himself. The only things holding him back were his legendary Ascetic restraint and the knowledge that Epse was not the only threat in the room. Any moment now, 'Gamul's two guards, SpecOps Commander Rycl 'Otsed and Major Domo Zhaal 'Lymux, would recover from their surprise and begin causing trouble.

On the bed, Blademaster Toha 'Sumai threw a sobbing female away from him and slid smoothly to his feet. The Blademaster did not seem the least bit dismayed by the fact that he was zipping up the bottom of his battle suit as he got to his feet to face the newcomers; indeed, he acted as though he had merely been getting his due and they were the ones who had so rudely interrupted him.

Usze held his head proud and straight, waiting for Toha—the father he'd always been compared to, but never actually met—to rise and approach him. He felt a churning in his guts unlike any he'd ever experienced before, and he realized that he had always treated his own life cheaply. He had not been afraid to die, and, fearless, he had cut down his fearful foes. Now he was frightened, deeply frightened, because Nitro and Piro were also counting on him, and that was why he could not afford to lose. He struggled to push down the emotion and keep control just long enough to win.

"So," Toha said softly, conversationally, his mandibles curved in a predator's smile. "My wayward son has come to challenge me to a duel."

Usze thought back to Fil Storamy's words. The honourable thing to do would be to issue the challenge, and in doing so, bind himself to abide by all the formal rules covering a duel. The breaking of the holy rules would result in the immediate execution of the offender.

Usze could have challenged Toha and cheated to win; he was already a wanted criminal, with assassins on his trail. One more crime would not make his situation any worse. But 'Taham did not feel right about calling this a duel. Let Toha know what he faced.

"I'm here to kill you."

Toha laughed. "You are confident. I like that. Issue the challenge." His eyes shone.

"No challenges, father."

This statement caught 'Sumai off guard. "No challenges? But a Blademaster fights with honour."

The words galled Usze. Even though he was not an Ascetic any more, he had strove to follow the Ascetic Code since he was old enough to hold a sword. He had wanted so badly to be a Perfect Warrior.

He had wanted so badly to be his father's son.

His eyes darted to the bed, where the weeping female was trying to conceal herself in her torn robe, and to Nitro, still chained to the floor, and he let his fury burn away his doubts.

He could not entertain concepts of honour against these monsters, who would use his ideals against him. Fil Storamy was right. This was not a question of whether he or his father was the better swordsman, or the more honourable warrior. This was a question of whose conduct would become the norm for Sanghelios: his and N'tho's, or Toha's and Epse's.

He could not afford to lose.

And yet, he still had honour enough to feel obliged to warn Toha what he faced.

"I am no longer a Blademaster. I am no longer a Swordsman. I am nothing but an outlaw. I fight only to win."

Usze 'Taham lit his sword.

*

"Piro, look out!" N'tho cried.

Piro rolled off 'Gamul just as a plasma shot flew through the space where his head had been. Zhaal, holding a plasma rifle, roared a battle cry.

But Zhaal, for all his brutality, wasn't that bright and he clearly underestimated Piro's courage and skill. The old Sangheili rushed right at Zhaal, dodging plasma blasts, closing the distance between them until he was too close-in for the rifle to be effective. Zhaal beat at Piro with the rifle, but Piro twisted sideways and cuffed him across the face.

N'tho had never seen Piro so angry.

Zhaal drew his energy sword. "I will cut your belly open, old man, and then I will rape your corpse, and strew your entrails for the scavengers…" he threatened.

Piro seized Zhaal's sword arm and uttered a simple response. "By my hand you will die."

The phrase was not a threat.

It was a holy vow.

The words were spoken quietly, and yet the old Major Domo's face displayed a rage that would have done a demon proud.

*

On the way to Epse's stateroom, Usze had wondered if the plan he had concocted with Fil Storamy was worth it. The weapons harness felt strange on his back; the weapon he carried under N'tho's cloak was bulky and ungainly. He had pondered just taking his chances with his blade skills, which by anyone's reckoning were formidable.

Now he was glad he had not.

It was taxing Usze's skill to the utmost just to avoid being stabbed through the hearts by Toha 'Sumai's twin swords. Usze's blade flew like lightning, fending off Toha's thrusts. He ducked under high slashes, leapt over low stabs, twisted sideways some times and parried at other times. Toha forced him into a furious pace, and even at the pinnacle of his fitness he could not have kept it up. N'tho's cloak was being cut to ribbons. Uzi found himself relying more and more on his power armor to catch Toha's blows and protect him.

Toha unleashed a torrent of viciously fast stabs. The leg that Uzi had injured on the Halo mission began to bother him; he could not move fast enough to avoid all the thrusts. His shields fell and one of Toha's thrusts tore his arm open.

Toha 'Sumai did not waste his breath on taunting his foe. It made him even more frightening as an opponent; there was no way to buy time with Toha. Usze did not dare spend too much time even watching Toha's face for fear of missing other clues as to his next move; but he thought he saw Toha smile coldly.

Desperately, Usze took a few steps backwards, knowing he could not afford to wait much longer. If Toha succeeded in backing him into a corner, his plan would fail. Unfortunately, Toha was not giving him any openings at all…

Usze's foot stumbled on 'Gamul's discarded bodysuit. His bad leg faltered.

Toha, sensing victory, launched himself high into the air in a powerful lunge, both blades extended, stabbing towards Usze's hearts. The move usually left the victim with enough time to see his inevitable death descend upon him. With two blades, the odds of being able to writhe out of the way of both swords were next to nil.

But Usze's bad leg was still strong enough to catch him before his knees hit the ground. And while 'Sumai was airborne, Usze had precious seconds he could use. Usze had counted on Toha making such an arrogant choice.

Usze 'Taham dropped his sword and reached behind himself, whirling as his hand caught the weapon on his back and swept it into play. His hand spun the safety release that formed a cylinder around the handle, letting the weapon build a charge. For a moment he feared the cloak that had concealed it would catch on it; then the last of the rippling fur slid free of his weapon's head.

Usze brought his new weapon around in a powerful arc, throwing his full weight and force behind the motion.

Usze saw Toha's eyes widen as he recognized the object in Usze's hands. Not a staff, but a _gravity hammer_, and the head of the hammer was on an intercept course with the middle of Toha's torso.

Toha twisted his body, but in mid-air he could not change the direction or speed of his leap.

Fil Storamy's gravity hammer caught Toha 'Sumai in the center of his chest, blasted through his shields, and shattered most of the bones in his body.

*

N'tho lunged against the chains, trying to see what was happening, but although he could hear the sounds of Usze and Toha in mortal combat behind him, he could not turn his head far enough to be able to watch them. He could, however, see Epse 'Gamul transfixed by the fight, Piro and Zhaal bludgeoning one another until both of their shields collapsed, Kya Pomor cringing in the corner while clutching her torn clothing around herself…and Rycl 'Otsed coming his way.

The SpecOps Subcommander fell to his knees and seized Nitro's chains, fumbling to unlock the cuffs. "I'm sorry," Rycl whispered. "I never meant for this to happen."

"When you let me go," N'tho replied, "you know what has to come next."

Rycl nodded.

"So, what is it to be, sir?" 'Sraom asked.

The Subcommander tilted his head in silent question.

N'tho clarified. "My kill or yours?"

Rycl's mandibles clamped together. "Mine."

*

N'tho rose to his feet, rubbing at his raw, bleeding wrists, and turned his head just in time to watch Usze's gravity hammer intersect with Toha's chest. The elder swordsman went flying backwards, slamming into the wall, leaving a bloody trail as he slid down towards the floor.

Nearby, Zhaal kicked out with his foot, catching Piro's left leg and sending the older warrior into a backward tumble. Snarling, Zhaal rounded on N'tho. Nitro had no weapon, but Zhaal didn't seem to care as he lunged forward with his blade. N'tho dodged, just in time. 'Lymux caught his balance and prepared to lunge again.

"Zhaal!" The voice carried the thunder of divine retribution.

Zhaal and Nitro turned as one.

Piro had let Zhaal's kick roll him right over in a backwards somersault. Now he knelt on the floor, and the carbine that had been on his back was in his hands.

The carbine blast caught Zhaal 'Lymux in the throat. His hands rose, scrabbling to stem the purple tide coming from his severed carotid artery. He sank to his knees, choking on his own blood.

N'tho had always known Piro 'Kipaz as a kindly old soldier, but to Zhaal now, Piro could be nothing less than an angel of vengeance. Piro limped across the room, knelt down to look Zhaal in the eye, and hissed, "While you die you should beg the Ancestors' forgiveness for what you have done to my _son_."

*

Toha Sumai's fall jolted Epse 'Gamul out of his trance. He darted to his control console and began barking orders. "Rycl, to me!" He snatched up his comm link. "Ship's guards, report to the commander's stateroom, mutiny in progress, instigator Usze 'Taham. 'Sumai is dead. Orders are to kill 'Taham on sight, I repeat, kill Usze 'Taham and his men on…"

Rycl grabbed the comm link away and tossed it aside.

"What are you doing, you fool?" 'Gamul demanded.

"If you want the opportunity to defend yourself, you should draw now."

Epse scowled. "You're supposed to be watching my back while I call for support. Idiot."

Rycl responded by igniting his blade.

"Draw," Rycl 'Otsed whispered, "or die where you stand."

"Rycl, you traitorous cur. I won't forgive this!" 'Gamul blustered as he drew his own weapon.

"You've never forgiven me anything, Epse. I've had enough." The SpecOps Commander lunged.

*

Blood bubbled from Toha 'Sumai's mandibles as his breath continued to rasp in and out of his body.

The nurse—Kya Pomor—uncurled and crept across the floor to squat by the shattered body of the swordsman. She tilted her head, watching him, but did not lift her hands to aid him.

"Help…me…" Toha 'Sumai whispered.

Her eyes were luminous. "After what you did to me, you expect me to help you?"

"You have to…you have to help me…" His hand formed a fist, as though he still had enough power to bend her to his will.

"I do not have to do anything," Kya said. "You are fortunate that I am so merciful."

She took his own plasma rifle out of his leg holster and shot him between the eyes.

*

Usze came to N'tho's side and watched warily as 'Gamul and 'Otsed slashed and parried. Usze held the gravity hammer in his left hand, clumsily turning the cylinder that was the hammer's "safety" mechanism, while his right hand pressed against the wound on his left shoulder. N'tho's eyes were riveted on the battle; his hands curled into fists.

"No," Usze said quietly. "This is Rycl's fight."

"I want a piece of that son of a Brute," N'tho growled.

"I know," 'Taham soothed, "but Rycl's suffered by him more than you…if you entered that fray now, you'd only distract…"

Then the fight took a turn for the worse. 'Gamul, roaring, drove his energy sword into Rycl 'Otsed's stomach. The Shipmaster followed it up with a kick, sending the SpecOps Commander staggering backwards, still impaled on 'Gamul's blade.

'Gamul turned unexpectedly and lunged right at Usze, seizing the gravity hammer in Uzi's grip. Usze, taken by surprise, threw his weight back and scrabbled for the hammer's shaft with his right hand, trying to hold on to it. His left hand clenched around the partially-reset safety cylinder.

N'tho looked around frantically, searching for some kind of weapon.

Usze howled in pain.

N'tho turned his head, watching Usze stumble. He guessed that 'Gamul had kneed him in the groin. The Shipmaster wrested the hammer away from Usze and swung it wildly.

Fortunately, Gamul had not taken the time to adjust the safety cylinder, and so the hammer had only a partial charge; meanwhile, Usze's shields were back at full strength. Had the shields' power been lower, or the hammer's power higher, the hammer's blast would have killed Usze on impact.

But the weapon was still a large, heavy object swung with all the strength the Shipmaster could muster. It caught Usze in the left thigh, on the leg he'd injured on the Halo mission. The armour deflected the worst of the blow, but sufficient force remained to pulverize Uzi's armour—and the flesh and bone beneath.

Usze went down.

Nitro's vision turned to red fog, burning away any thoughts of rank or punishment or shame.

Epse 'Gamul had hurt his bondmate.

Epse 'Gamul would die.

*

Usze 'Taham forced his eyes open. 'Gamul was swinging the hammer at him again, this time ready to bash in his skull.

And then the hammer's trajectory changed. The weapon went spinning wildly off to the side; 'Gamul appeared to fly backwards, away from Usze. 'Taham caught a brief glance of a larger Sangheili behind the Shipmaster.

Nitro.

N'tho spun 'Gamul around as though the Shipmaster were no more than a hatchling. 'Sraom showed no hesitation, no fear, not even the wild yells or stupid jokes that had been his hallmarks on the Halo mission. Nitro seized Epse by the throat with his right hand and lifted him up off the ground with one arm.

Usze had felt N'tho's muscles moving under him, surging with power, but he'd never realized just how strong Nitro was when he put his mind to it. Epse kicked N'tho in the chest, once, twice, but it was as though the blows fell on solid rock. This was N'tho 'Sraom in his full battle glory, and Epse 'Gamul quaked helplessly in his grip.

N'tho snarled—the final warning of an angry predator.

Then he tossed Epse into the air, and caught 'Gamul as he fell, one hand on either side of 'Gamul's head. N'tho wrenched his hands to the left. The Shipmaster's neck broke with an audible snap.

N'tho dropped 'Gamul's corpse and moved to Usze's side.

"My hero," he whispered, and even through the pain, Usze smiled.

*

N'tho felt sick as he looked at the damage to Usze's leg. There was bone sticking up through his skin, and so much blood… He pulled the cape off Usze's neck and wrapped it carefully around Uzi's thigh, trying to staunch the bleeding.

The door opened, and there stood Fil Storamy with an energy sword in her hand. "Hallway's clear. Guards are elsewhere or dead." Her eyes darted. "Reinforcements on their way. You need to be gone."

"There's your hammer back," N'tho said, nodding at it. He didn't want to touch it after what it had done to his mate.

"What happened to Uzi?" Fil asked.

"'Gamul got him with the hammer before I killed him."

A small shape slipped out of the shadows. It was the nurse, Kya Pomor, running her hands gently over Usze's wound. "This is a dangerous break. Marrow in his bloodstream could stop his hearts. He must be monitored, and the break repaired surgically."

"You can't take him to the med bay," Fil argued as she sheathed her sword and retrieved her lethal hammer. "He'd be a sitting target for assassins. There's still some idiots on this ship who would give their alleigance to 'Jar Wattin."

N'tho thought for a moment and reached a decision. He wasn't sure if Uzi—or Kya, or Piro—would ever forgive him, but in his soul he knew what needed to be done. Breathing in Usze's scent, he found within himself a conviction to act.

"Hold on," N'tho murmured, and picked Usze up.

*

Usze sank his teeth into N'tho's shoulder to avoid screaming in pain. N'tho gritted his mandibles and accepted the bite. Usze clenched his hands around his mate as he tried to hold himself together. The others' voices became hyper-loud and distorted as the agony of his wound began to affect his perception.

Nitro turned to the Quartermaster. "Fil, we need to get off this ship. Piro, you used to be a pilot. What can you fly that fits four and is Slipspace-capable?"

"Watchtower?" Piro offered.

"There's a Slipspace-converted Phantom in the bay. It's got a better first aid setup than a Watchtower shuttle," Fil said. "Take the green one on the front far left in the hangar. I'll open the bay doors for you."

"We're stealing a Phantom?" Piro asked.

"Nah," N'tho replied. "Didn't you hear? The Chief Quartermaster just issued us one." He turned his head. "Kya, you're coming with us." It was an order, not a request, and the little nurse did not question it.

Usze's pain finally became too much; his vision blacked out completely. He intended to protest that it wasn't fair of Nitro to involve Kya in this, but his mouth would not voice his concerns. For a few seconds, he heard voices still.

"What if they try to stop you?" Piro asked.

"What if who tries to stop me?" Fil retorted. "This is officially a mutiny now…and put it this way…the ship's full compliment of Grunts and Jackals, as well as Ki 'Chaz, Vaa 'Moiril, and the rest of SpecOps, and all the female Sangheili support staff, want me in charge. So that's "what if they try to stop you, _Shipmaster_," and the answer involves this gravity hammer."

Then silence, and darkness.

*

Moments later, N'tho sat in the copilot's seat of the Phantom as Piro guided it clear of the hanger bay. It crossed his mind that Fil had given them the very Phantom Toha 'Sumai had arrived in.

The new Shipmaster had a twisted sense of humor. Or, perhaps, of justice. He hoped Fil Storamy could keep control of _Shadow of Intent_ until Rtas 'Vadum returned.

N'tho glanced over his shoulder, watching Kya working on Usze's unconscious form. At first he'd been frightened that the nurse would be too traumatized from her own experience with Toha to help Usze. Instead, having Usze to care for appeared to be distracting her, which could only be a mercy.

"She's going to need help," N'tho murmured to Piro. "Kya."

"I will take care of Kya," the old soldier replied. "You take care of Usze."

N'tho offered a silent prayer to the Ancestors to be with Usze now. It was a mercy that he was unconscious; it would protect him from the worst of the pain. N'tho could only pray that Usze would wake up when it was over.

_Come back to me, Usze. Don't leave me again._

N'tho shook his head. This time, he would have faith. This time he would believe that his bondmate loved him enough to want to live. That Usze loved him enough to forgive him for what he was about to do next.

He turned his attention back to Piro and gave him a set of coordinates.

As the Phantom entered Slipspace, N'tho said quietly, "You never told me you were my father."

Piro sighed. "I have many regrets, N'tho of the keep of 'Sraom. That I did not marry your mother when I had the chance. That I sired that egg that killed her. That I could not prevent your branding. I thought, in your dreams, you imagined a better sire for yourself than a warrior several decades your mother's senior."

N'tho scowled. "I thought my sire was my own grandfather, to be honest."

Piro's mandibles twisted.

"Come on, you know me," N'tho said softly, "always thinking the worst." He looked back over his shoulder. "It's time, I think, for me to start hoping for the best."


	20. Chapter 21: Future's Dawn

**Cross Blades**

**Chapter the Twenty-First: Future's Dawn**

Usze 'Taham blinked his eyes, wondering why the light was so painfully bright. His left leg burned like fire. He took a deep breath; harsh chemicals assaulted his nostrils. Where was he? Who in their right mind would make walls and ceilings _white_?

"Hey there," came a quiet voice by his side.

Usze turned his head to see Nitro sitting by the side of his bed. He was wearing Human clothing again; a new scar twisted across his muzzle. 'Taham lifted his hand; it felt weak and unresponsive, but when Nitro took it, Usze smiled to feel the warm caress of the younger warrior's fingers.

"What happened? Where are we?"

N'tho seemed nervous. "We're on Earth."

"Earth?" Usze demanded. How the hell had they gotten to Earth? Surely he hadn't just dreamed everything….no, he could see the slash on his arm that he'd received from Toha 'Sumai, and his leg hurt far too much for him to be imagining it.

"Yeah. Hey, lie back and relax. You're pretty messed up. You've been out for weeks; we put you in stasis during the trip to Earth. Then Kya Pomor and the Human doctors spent a few hours in surgery putting your leg back together."

Usze groaned. "How much dishonour is that going to heap on me?"

"Submitting to surgery? I dunno, after whacking another Blademaster and assisting in a mutiny, not to mention betraying the Ascetic Order, and willingly skinning off my Mark of Punishment, is there really any farther down that you can go?" N'tho licked him.

Usze shook his head. "How bad is it?" he whispered.

N'tho fidgeted.

"Nitro, how bad is my leg?"

'Sraom swallowed nervously. "They think you'll be walking again eventually."

"Eventually," Usze repeated dully.

"Uzi." N'tho's eyes shimmered.

"I need to know," 'Taham insisted. He was afraid of the answer.

_A Perfect Warrior does not halt because of fear_, his training insisted.

"That hammer…it shattered the bone in your thigh."

Usze's eyes darkened. He let out his breath slowly, feeling sick. "I'm crippled."

"We'll teach you to walk again."

That wasn't anywhere near good enough. Usze insisted acidly, "Will I be a Swordsman, Nitro? Will I be fighting again?"

'Sraom hung his head. "No."

"And you know what happens to warriors crippled in battle. I'm too injured for combat, but too functional for a mercy kill. I'll be sent back to Sanghelios as a breeder." He bit down on his mandibles. "And you know where my bloodline will land me. Back in the Temple on Iruiru."

"No. No, it won't."

Usze scowled. "And how do you propose to stop ten ages of Sangheili tradition?"

N'tho shrugged. "You're marooned on Earth, Uzi. The Phantom's busted. There is no way back."

Usze's eyes widened as he finallly grasped the implications of their flight.

N'tho looked out the window. "Look at me, Usze. I murdered a Shipmaster. I was also involved in the death of my immediate superior, Rycl 'Otsed."

'Taham released a breath. "Rycl died."

N'tho nodded. "Fil says he was still alive when a medical crew arrived, but he wouldn't let them operate on him. Said he'd acquired too much shame to live with, and he'd rather they let him die. They agreed to honour his wishes." 'Sraom sighed. "You're so very right, Uzi. We've got to stop killing ourselves rather than live with our mistakes." He stroked his mate's cheek. "Rycl wasn't a bad guy. SpecOps is poorer for the loss of him. Vaa's in charge, now, but nobody knows if he's going to be up to the job."

"So you've been talking to Fil."

"We had to tell her we broke the Phantom and weren't bringing it back. She's not as angry as she pretended to be." He managed to laugh. "She's got her claws full commanding _Shadow of Intent_."

"Rtas let her stay on as Shipmaster?"

"Either that, or he's too afraid of her to try to take the rank away from her." He grinned.

Usze sighed, but he couldn't hide his smile. "At least she won't be able to hit me up for any favours."

"You'd be surprised. She's got this huge list of Earth stuff she wants us to send her…says we both owe her and it's time to pay up…" Nitro sighed. "Anyway…you're right about ten ages of tradition. 'Gamul, 'Lymux and 'Sumai deserved what they had coming, but our names are still going to be dirt in the fleet, and we've both of us lost our blades."

"You…"

"Toha stripped my Swordsman status."

"I'll give it back."

"You can't. You're not a Blademaster any more." He nudged his mate with his muzzle; Usze realized that Nitro's scar was where Toha's blade had scalded him. "It doesn't even matter, Usze. 'Gamul had friends. They'd be gunning for me. Just like the Ascetics will still be gunning for you. And we don't have Fil Storamy's network of favours, alliances, and intelligence in place to back us up. There's no way home for us." He shrugged. "So I figured, what better place for us to be exiled to? Sanghelios needed ambassadors to Earth, particularly ones that the Arbiter could trust; we already have glowing war records and experience with the Humans. It's a perfect fit. And if the Ascetics try sending anyone here after us, Earth's got a fleet and a whole whack of MAC guns to send 'em packing again. 'Vadum went for it right away."

"You asked…Rtas?"

"Yeah." He smiled guiltily. "After we landed here."

"I didn't even know you could fly a Phantom."

"I can't." He nuzzled Usze's cheek. "But Piro can. Used to, actually. He didn't forget how."

"You crazy fool."

"Yeah."

"You." Usze swallowed hard. "You're stuck here because of me. All of you. Piro and Kya."

N'tho snorted. "Don't feel too bad about Piro and Kya."

"All because of me…they…"

"Piro's been resisting retirement for years. So as soon as we landed…" N'tho shrugged. "Breaking the Phantom was his idea. I know how to fix it, but he won't let me." N'tho winked.

Usze heard a scuffling sound and there stood the subjects of the current conversation. Piro 'Kipaz was dressed in a black Sangheili-style tunic and looking very sleek indeed. By his side was Kya, wearing a short sari of colourfully patterned fabric.

"Well, N'tho, you've got a handsome one there. Shame he's not very bright." Piro peered down at Usze with a familiar crooked grin.

'Taham wrinkled his muzzle, utterly bewildered. "What?"

"Listen to me, young one, you should feel no guilt. There are much worse fates for a used-up old warrior than spending the rest of his days lying in the sun, watching the little ones play."

Usze blinked. "Little ones?"

Kya pointed off to the side, where a large machine hummed softly. Usze wasn't sure what he was looking at until Kya lifted the lid and carefully picked up one of the two objects inside.

They were eggs.

Sangheili eggs.

Usze closed his eyes. "Oh, Kya," he breathed. "Are those from…from what my father did to you?"

"Just one of them," N'tho said. "The other was only laid yesterday, leading me to suspect that _someone else_ is responsible for it…" He folded his arms and glared meaningfully at Piro—an expression that looked remarkably Usze-like.

The old Sangheili gave them both an innocent smile that looked guilty as sin to Usze.

"So," Usze said. "More where Nitro came from. Is the universe ready?" Then he turned his attention to the nurse. "Kya. You do not want us to ask the Fleet to send a ship for you?" Even as he spoke the words, he knew it would be a long time before the Arbiter and Rtas could spare a vessel and a pilot.

"This is a strange world," Kya said quietly, returning the egg to its incubator, "but I have no regrets. I will raise my young to be free and strong, far from the people who would hold children responsible for a parent's sin." Kya lifted the corner of her skirt to reveal a Mark of Punishment stamped on her left thigh. "On the Fleet they would smash my fertile eggs so I would not reproduce. No longer."

"I know a guy who can get rid of that for you," N'tho offered. "Hurts like fuck though."

"I know a guy who does not mind it," she replied, returning to Piro's side and curling her arm around his waist. The Human slang sounded bizarre to Usze's ears when spoken in Kya's precise and formal voice.

"Exile," Usze mused, taking Nitro's hand. "But we are together."

N'tho nodded. "Yeah. And hey, you know Human ambassadors live in swanky houses and go to fancy dinners, and wear expensive clothes, and act all important and stuff. You'll fit right in." He grinned. "And I'll embarrass you regularly."

There was a time Usze 'Taham would rather have died than lived with these shames: an exile, a cripple, a companion of outcasts. There was a voice in him still, insisting that he did not want to live under these conditions.

But that voice was quieter than it used to be.

_One month later_

N'tho 'Sraom woke up screaming.

In his dream, he was back in Epse 'Gamul's stateroom, chained to the floor. In his dream, Usze had arrived too late.

N'tho flared his mandibles and sucked big gulps of air into his lungs, trying to tell himself it was nothing but unconscious fears running amok in his sleeping brain. He was on Earth. Epse was dead. He was safe.

But as he curled into a shuddering ball in his bunk, he could not fool himself into thinking that everything was okay. To claim so would be a disservice to Kya, for whom the rescue really had come too late. Even though she treated both her young equally—even though she referred to her first-hatched as "Usze's sister"—N'tho knew that Kya also screamed at night.

And then there was Usze.

N'tho had never been a month without sex before, not since he'd been branded with the Mark of Punishment. At first he had restrained himself deliberately, knowing that Usze needed time to heal. At first it wasn't so hard. Nitro was skittish after his near miss with Epse.

But now, weeks had dragged into a month. N'tho was still too timid to make any overtures. And the easy answer—waiting for Usze to reach out for him, to touch him and stroke him and send his fears fleeing before his rising desire—had never happened. Usze busied himself with obsessive physiotherapy and his new role as Ambassador, drawing back into that Aescetic shell. N'tho visited him every day, and they were still great friends, but at night, Uzi slept in the hospital ward, leaving Nitro alone in a cold bed. N'tho started to daydream about fixing the Phantom, returning to SpecOps and _Shadow of Intent_, and begging Vaa to mate with him again just so he wouldn't be alone.

N'tho was frightened. How could he and Usze come so far just to have it unravel now?

Suddenly he could not bear this empty room any longer. He got up, pulling on his shirt and pants, and padded out into the hall. He moved through the base like a ghost, feeling some inexorable sense pulling him onwards, until he found himself standing just outside Usze's door.

On the other side was an answer N'tho was afraid to face.

A loud clatter ripped the night, followed by a foul curse and a moan of torment.

N'tho kicked the door open, too worried for Usze to fear for himself any longer.

Usze knelt on the floor, a tipped walking-cart on its side before him, with his claws digging deeply into the meat of his fisted hands. He wore a simple white tunic. His mandibles churned in agony. N'tho was by his side before Usze realized he was no longer alone.

"Leave me," the former Blademaster growled.

"No."

Uzi glared daggers at Nitro, but the younger Sangheili didn't care. He picked Usze up, ignoring his protestations, and laid him back in the narrow bunk. Then he curled up beside him and flung his arms over his mate.

"I mean it," Usze growled. "I don't want you seeing me like this." Nitro could hear the self-disgust in Uzi's voice.

"I can't go," N'tho whispered. "I need help."

Usze's scowl slipped into an expression of concern. "What do you mean, you can't go?"

"I'm having nightmares all the time. About Epse. And…And I need you to help me. Please."

"Oh, Nitro." Usze licked him, once, before he pulled away and looked down at himself in shame. "How can I help you like this?"

N'tho rolled over, pressing his body against the front of Usze's. "It's been so long since we mated…I'm so lonely. I feel so unwanted. I feel so scared. I feel so alone."

Uzi sucked in a breath. "N'tho…can you not wait for me to recover?"

"No," N'tho replied, his eyes shut. "That could be months. I can't wait that long."

Usze sighed regretfully. "Do you need…someone else?"

Nitro pulled away and rolled onto his belly, turning his head to glare at his mate. "No, I need you, dumbass!" Nitro snapped. "I don't want anyone else. That's sort of another reason I'm glad to be on Earth. I don't have temptations." 'Sraom shivered. "I'm the weak one, Usze, not you. I can't deal with things alone. And…it's not fair for you to make me wait until you think you're perfect. I need you—just as you are—right now."

Usze snorted, his voice dripping acid. "I disgust myself. I'm pathetic. I don't know how you can feel any desire for a cripple."

There was an urge in Nitro to roll over and seduce his mate. To stroke Usze with soft touches and long licks, to coax Uzi until his desire burned away his inhibition. Yet Nitro sensed that tempting Usze to submit would do the former Blademaster no favours. What Usze really needed was his old authority back.

And in all honesty, N'tho needed it too.

"I need you, Ambassador," N'tho whispered as he rolled back onto his side and lined himself up in a mating position. "Tear off my pants and leave your scent all over me so there's no question who I belong to. Make me yours and order me to tear out the throat of anyone who dares question your ownership of me. Take me and _master me_."

N'tho moved his hips back, pressing against Usze; he could feel his mate growing hard against him, and he smiled. Despite the submissive nature of his words, N'tho had deliberately chosen this position. Usze, spooned behind him, had his body's weight on his strong leg, and no weight on his injured leg. Usze would not have to struggle to hold position during their mating. The only question was whether Usze would accept his challenge…

Usze growled.

Then N'tho realized to his shock that Uzi had taken _tear off my pants _very literally. Before Nitro knew what was happening, Usze's claws had ripped the crotch seam right out of his pants; fabric tore and frayed. No matter what had happened to Usze's leg, the rest of him was still lightning-fast and…

Usze's upper hand splayed over Nitro's belly.

The folds of Usze's tunic—pulled up to quickly bare 'Taham's lower half rather than properly removed—pressed into Nitro's back.

N'tho moaned. Usze had never been so rough and so fast and it was turning him on more than he'd ever thought possible.

Uzi's voice was hot in Nitro's earbud. "Once I am inside you, N'tho 'Sraom, you will be the Ambassador's Consort, and any who might attempt to break our union will die at our hands. If you do not wish to belong to me, body and soul, or if you do not wish responsibility for me, body and soul, speak now, or be bound to me forever."

N'tho shivered, but this time, from pleasure. "Mount me, my lord Ambassador. I accept your judgment."

Usze pressed backwards with his hand and surged forward with his hips at the same time, guiding himself into his mate, driving himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust.

"Epse can't have you," Usze growled. "Nobody else can have you. You're my mate. _Mine_," he emphasized just before sinking his teeth into the nape of N'tho's neck.

Nitro mewled. 'Sraom felt a sudden fear that with his whole body nerveless, he could no longer help Usze along—but Uzi didn't need the help. He grabbed N'tho's hips and pulled Nitro roughly against him, driving himself deep, deep inside…and Nitro loved it. "I'm yours, Uzi…yours…forever…"

Yes, this was exactly what he'd needed. He felt Usze's claws biting into his chest, heard his mate moan in pleasure as he released his tension into N'tho's waiting body….only to harden again.

This was what they'd both needed.

*

Usze had been hesitant at first that something he'd do might remind Nitro of Epse 'Gamul. He hadn't been ready for Nitro's explicit dirty talk and it had shocked him—and unnerved him. He certainly didn't feel very dominant or powerful when he spent most of his days either letting N'tho push him around in a wheeled chair, or limping behind a little cart as he tried to learn to walk again.

But Nitro was right. He was an Ambassador. He and Nitro were doing a job that no other Sangheili could do, and Usze did not need the physical skills of a Blademaster to excel at his position.

And, he was discovering right now, he certainly had physical skills enough to make N'tho come screaming.

Usze allowed himself a smug smile. He was still good for something after all…though he had no intentions of becoming complacent. He had been turning down the Humans' offers of a leg brace, but perhaps his decision had been premature. Usze might be able to kneel for a fair amount of time with the help of such a device. He doubted N'tho would be bothered by the sight…what little he'd see of it. N'tho would either be facedown in front of him, or else have his fangs buried in Usze's nape, and either way, he'd probably be too aroused to keep his eyes focused….

But that was tomorrow. Tonight he'd order N'tho to climb on top of him. He'd tell Nitro to pump his hips and do all the work…at Uzi's command. Usze would just put his hands behind his head, watch the show, and enjoy the inevitable results. He'd let Nitro decline if he wished, but Usze doubted that the younger warrior would. In fact, Usze was willing to gamble that Nitro would absolutely love that order.

If Nitro did a good job, Usze thought that he might fancy spending a little more time on his back with N'tho inside _him_.

And if the brace was late in arriving…well…perhaps he could breed Nitro somewhere where he'd have something else to hold onto while he thrust into his mate. Something like, perhaps, the sides of a Mongoose. Nitro was so terribly smug about that Warthog incident…how would he feel to find himself bent over a Mongoose, being mounted by Uzi?

It might well start a war between them, Uzi realized. Hornets. Scorpions. Wolverines. There was all manner of human machinery that could be appropriated for sexual games.

And be damned if the thought didn't intrigue him.

But he would have to think about that later. Right now, N'tho was doing things to him that drove all rational thought away.

*

Usze was nudging him, but N'tho hesitated, curling up into a ball instead. The sex had been a little rough, but it had also felt great. Nitro didn't need to worry about anything when Usze was taking command of him. Now that Usze was no longer inside him, though, Nitro started to feel that same sick, lonely feeling that always came with being fucked hard and then discarded. He wondered if this kind of sex would be tainted forever for him.

"Roll over," Usze murmured, softly but commandingly, and N'tho found himself obeying instinctively.

Uzi wrapped an arm over him and began to lap his muzzle and throat. The soothing licks felt pleasant, but out of place. N'tho forced a laugh. "You don't have to bother with foreplay, Uzi. You already fucked me good."

"This is afterplay," the Ambassador mumured in N'tho's earbud.

Nitro quivered. "What's afterplay?"

"It's what happens after you drive your mate wild in bed. You hold him close, lick him, caress him…" Usze nuzzled him. "And make sure he knows how much you love him."

N'tho exhaled a sigh of relief. The cold, sick, lonely feeling was washed away by a warm, comforting sensation as Usze held him near and cherished him. He could do no less in return, and it felt even better to stroke his mate's shoulders through the tunic Usze still wore. "Thank the Ancestors…" He licked Usze back. "I love you too. I think I could get used to afterplay."

"I hope you do," Uzi murmured. "I hope we do it a lot."

"We almost made the same mistakes." N'tho shut his eyes. "We almost made the same mistakes _again_."

"You didn't let me," Usze whispered. "And I won't let you."

"But are we ever going to get it _right_?"

"It's right, right now, isn't it?"

"Yes, but…" N'tho gulped. "What about tomorrow?"

"One day at a time," Usze murmured and licked him again. "But we'll start tomorrow off right. Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Yes." N'tho swallowed and opened his eyes. "Then…would you like to move into our room?"

"Our room," Usze repeated, then winked. "Not yours with me in it?"

N'tho laughed. "No. Ours."

They cuddled for a while until Nitro asked, "Do you think it gets easier with practice? Being mates, I mean. Getting it right."

Usze nodded. "I think it will. But I don't think it's ever…over, if you understand what I mean."

"You mean we have to keep working at it. Every day."

"Yes."

"I think we can do that." N'tho smiled. "You support me. I support you. And we take it one day at a time."

_Six months later_

Usze 'Taham limped across the top of the bluff, leaning heavily on the crutch beneath his left arm. He stared at the setting sun on the horizon for a moment and then turned his muzzle into the wind. The breeze off the sea felt cool and fresh on his skin. He wondered how many other small joys he'd missed out on in the past years.

On the beach below, Piro 'Kipaz gathered up towels and coolers while Kya Pomor splashed through the waves on all fours, gripping Usze's little sister tightly in her jaws, N'tho's sister chasing at her heels. Kya's belly was already rounding with the swell of another egg. Usze watched the little family and wondered how he ever could have considered a life of barren pride to be worthwhile. What was the point of sacrifice, if not to make such small miracles possible?

There was a scrabbling sound behind him, and Usze's mandibles curled into a smile as he remembered that he did not have to watch the little family from a distance. He was a part of it.

"What'cha doing?" Nitro asked, sticking his muzzle too close to Usze's face and sniffing him.

"Acclimating myself to my new life," Usze responded, and licked his mate. "Help me down?"

There was a time he'd rather have fallen on his own sword than asked for help to do something so simple as sitting down, but his life had become something very different in the months since.

"It's getting dark," N'tho replied, though he did as Usze asked, assisting his partner until they were both seated on the rocks.

"Humans say it's romantic to watch the sun set," Usze said as he pulled his tattered purple cloak around his shoulders.

"Oh, so you've been doing your research again?" N'tho teased, curling up beside his mate.

"Not so well that I don't need your help."

'Sraom grinned smugly. "I got some research for you. Something I learned today."

"Do tell."

"Well, you're not a Blademaster any more, and Toha took my sword away. So we're not Swordsmen. So we can get married."

Usze frowned—he'd been trying not to dwell on the things he'd lost. "Why would you want to get married? Who would you even get married to?"

"No, that's the research part, stupid. Humans will let two males get married. You know, to each other."

Usze's eyes widened as the implications became clear.

"Wanna marry me, dumbass?"

Uzi's mandibles churned. "Ah…"

"You support me, I support you, one day at a time, for the rest of our lives." N'tho tilted his head. "Well?"

Usze managed to croak out, "Fuck yeah."

N'tho laughed. "See, I knew it. We _are_ bad influences on each other. You got me exiled and almost killed, and I've taught you to cuss."

"You've taught me other bad habits too," Uzi said slyly. "Later on I'll show you some."

"I think I'd like that. Very much."

Uzi put his arm around the other warrior. N'tho tilted his head, resting it on Usze's shoulder, and together they watched the sun disappear and the stars come out.

Usze wondered how many sunsets it would take before the alien constellations became familiar—before this strange planet began to feel like home. He wasn't certain. N'tho's warmth against him, though, suggested that both of them might not be that far from home after all.

FINIS

Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me during this novel of a fanfic. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

Due to the points of view in this story—it's told through the eyes of N'tho and Usze—I wasn't able to do as much with Piro and Kya as I felt they deserved. So, there will be a sequel, "Mercenary Hearts," giving 'Kipaz and Pomor their due. Look for it in mid-August.


End file.
